


Saudade

by ArtisanGriffinKane



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff will come around eventually, Humor too I promise, Kabby, Kabby Angst, Kabby Slow Burn, Marcus is such a loving father I might need to cry, Slow Burn, blake siblings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-05-19 10:45:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 101,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14872272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtisanGriffinKane/pseuds/ArtisanGriffinKane
Summary: Twenty years. It had been twenty freaking years, she had disappeared, leaving everything and everyone behind herself, without ever bothering to call or to make contact in any possible way, and all of a sudden here she was.-Abby left her hometown, Arkadia, 20 years ago. When she decides to come back, the first person she goes to is her former best friend Marcus, with whom she hadn't talked since her departure.-Saudade -  is a deep emotional state of nostalgic or profound melancholic longing for an absent something or someone that one loves. Moreover, it often carries a repressed knowledge that the object of longing might never return.





	1. Imber

**Author's Note:**

> I am back bitches! Gotta say, this wasn't supposed to start like this, I have something like 12000+ words that were supposed to start this new adventure, but as always I decide to do something and right after it my fangirl brain messes it up and goes on its way, without bothering to tell me. How nice. So here we are, with something new but not that new in the end, cause is all about Kabby and angst and love and slow burn and whatever will come to my mind. I know where this story goes, at least parts of it, I don't know though what will happen in every single chapter, so let's find out together. Shall we? Gotta say I love to be back, to finally give you new reasons to yell at me, cause I love you and your comments way more than you can even imagine! Now go and read and let me know what you think right after ok? LOVE YOU ALL AS ALWAYS

 

 

 _Late at night I drift away_  
_I can hear you calling_  
_And my name is in the rain_  
_Leaves on trees whispering_  
_Deep blue seas, mysteries_

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Rain had started to fall down the sky since the early hours in the morning. The sky was gray and heavy, thunders were constantly rumbling while blinding lightnings scratched the sky over the mountains.

 

Arkadia was silent, the sound of the storm the only echo filling the empty streets. The wind was dancing with the fallen leaves on the edge of the road, when a silver Tesla quietly parked in front of Marcus Kane's house.

 

He was filling himself a cup of tea, and didn't notice the woman that was now staring at his garden from her car window. The droplets of rain were loud on the windscreen, following a disconnected rhythm.

 

When Abby Griffin took the key out of the engine, and the car fell quiet, she started listening to the sound of the storm around her. Nature was loud and messy that day, and she regretted immediately her chose of outfit. Her fancy boots weren't designed for puddles and mud. Her light white coat, her dark jeans and her cotton white blouse weren't gonna do much to shield her from the harsh drops of water coming from the sky.

 

She wasn't prepared to face a storm, she wasn't prepared to face anything today... and yet here she was. She was driving since early in the morning, six long hours after her cup of morning coffee and she was finally here.

 

Here where she hadn't been seen in twenty years. Here where she wasn't supposed to come back. Ever again. Here where she had decided to come, after so long, because she had nowhere else to go.

 

Abby inhaled deeply, clenched her fists tightly, swallowed the knot that was constricting her throat and climbed outside. She hadn't an umbrella, she had nothing more than what she was keeping in her bag, a pair of keys, a wallet and her phone were all she had with her. She closed the car door vehemently and tried to shield her eyes, raising her hand, the rain was hitting her hard and her hair was damp in a matter of seconds.

 

She opened the white fence and stepped inside of the garden, her heels diving dangerously in the muddy gravel. With one last step she was finally on the porch, and the roof provided her some shelter. She exhaled, realizing she had been holding her breath the entire time. Her lungs welcomed in the new oxygen and she clenched her jaw.

 

 _Here we are._ Her mind was protesting about how bad this idea was since she had started driving, yelling and complaining about an entirety of reasons why this was going to end up badly, why she should had go somewhere else, _anywhere_ but not here.

 

She shook her head, silencing her inner debate and swallowed, closing her eyes briefly and inhaling deeply, trying to find the courage to knock on that damn door.

 

 _You can do this._ She told herself.

 

 _But you definitely shouldn't._ Her mind said back.

 

_I don't have a choice._

 

With that last thought she raised her hand and knocked heavily and rapidly on the white colored wood. She kept her fist tight at her side while she waited, chewing at the inside of her cheek.

 

_Come on, open up._

 

She waited a little longer, but nobody answered. She exhaled heavily and knocked again.

 

Nobody answered.

 

_Maybe he isn't home._

 

What if that was right? What if she had recklessly drove for six hours to find out he wasn't home? What if he had moved somewhere else? What if he was in another city? Or maybe even another country?

 

But then she looked at his garage, and saw that damn blue pickup, the one his father always used to pick him up from school, that one she had learned to drive on when she was 16. He was definitely still living there.

 

And so she knocked again.

 

And this time he opened the door.

 

When his eyes adjusted on her, time seemed to froze and even rain seemed to stop, for a moment not even the wind was howling, nothing was happening, nothing existed. There was just that instant, and there were just the two of them, looking at each other on his porch, after twenty long years of silence.

 

He had a cup of tea in hand when he had opened his door, he was having a quiet moment for himself, in the peace of his house, enjoying the warmth of that amber liquid while outside spring gave life to the earth.

 

As soon as he had settled his eyes on her though, his grip on the fragile ceramic had loosened, and the cup was now scattered at his feet, the warm tea sneaking under the mat that said _Welc-me,_ the _o_ had disappeared long ago _._ Abby didn't bother to look down, neither did he. They kept staring at each other in silence.

 

He wasn't moving, nor even blinking, and Abby thought he wasn't even breathing, as if that simple gesture was suddenly too hard to process for him now. At least for her that was the case. Her lungs were starting to burn for the lack of oxygen, but she couldn't bear herself to inhale, nor even to blink, afraid she could mess up this even more.

 

Because this was definitely messed up. And the look on his face told her it was even worse than what she had thought, it was deeply fucked up.

 

She wanted to say something, so many things, she wanted to explain, to apologize, for everything, for all this time, she had so much to say sorry for. But suddenly she wasn't able to say any of that, not even a single word.

 

Marcus on his side, seemed to have the same problem, he was so lost into staring at her with wide eyes, his lips slightly apart, he looked paralyzed, shocked. Abby was desperate for something to happen, anything, to help the both of them out of that weird trance.

 

Then was when someone appeared at Marcus' back, and a pair of light green eyes blinked in her direction.

 

“Who is it _Dad_?”

 

 

_Oh._

 

 ….

 

 

 _Twenty years._ It had been twenty _freaking_ years, she had disappeared, leaving everything and everyone behind herself, without ever bothering to call or to make contact in any possible way, and all of a sudden here she was.

 

Soaked in rain from head to toes, looking at Octavia with confused eyes, a question already forming on the tip of her tongue, while few drops of rain kept quietly falling from her eyelashes, rolling down her cheeks.

 

“Dad?” Octavia was now pinching him in the side, trying to get his attention. He wanted to answer her, he wanted to turn around, to advert his gaze from the woman that had broken his heart so many years ago. He wanted to say something, _anything_ , to shut that door, forgetting this had ever happened.

 

Maybe if he did that, maybe she would disappear, maybe this wasn't happening, maybe he was dreaming, maybe this was another one of his nightmares. Or some sort of hallucination, he had had them at first, when she had left so many years ago, it had been so hard for him to not see her going around town, whenever a glimpse of brown hair entered his view, his mind would immediately connected it to her.

 

He had worked so hard to forget about her, to erase her from his memory, how could she dare appear again now? Now that things were working again? Now that he had been starting to finally move on with his life?

 

_The nerve of this woman._

 

“Who is she?” Octavia whispered to him, as if the stranger at their door couldn't hear her. She could definitely hear her. He saw the way her eyes flickered to him, waiting for his answer, waiting for him to say something, anything. She definitely heard her.

 

_Fuck this. Fuck me. Fuck you. Fuck everything._

 

She licked at her lips then, when he kept silent, and opened her mouth to answer Octavia herself.

 

_No._

 

“Go back inside Octavia.” He growled, not bothering to look at her, his eyes never leaving the woman that was now biting at her lower lip, swallowing back whatever kind of introduction she wanted to give of herself.

 

_It's not up to you. You have no right. Not anymore. No._

 

Marcus was suddenly really angry. When he had thought during the years about the day he was going to see her again, because he had thought about it, he would always imagine himself being broken, on his knees, crying as a baby, asking her dozens of “ _Why?”_ Pleading her to come back, to not leave again.

 

But now, now that this was finally happening, now that she was finally in front of him, and that he could do anything he wanted, asking her all the reasons behind her decisions...

 

Now he didn't care anymore. He didn't want to hear, he didn't want to know. He just wanted her to disappear again, as she had done on that fateful day so many years ago. He wanted her to turn around and go back under the pouring rain, disappearing into the storm.

 

He was _angry_ , he was _mad_ , and he didn't want her here.

 

How ironic that was. She was finally back, and he didn't want her anymore.

 

Or at least, that was what he thought to be the truth, now that she was still quiet, looking at him in silence, as if she was afraid to say the first thing, as if she didn't even know what to say, where to begin. He could see the tension trapped in her muscles, her fists were tight at her sides, her nails were digging painfully in the soft flesh of her hands.

 

She was torturing her lower lip nervously, and her eyes were shifty now, looking at the inside of his house, where Octavia had been few seconds before, and then back at him. She was breathing quietly, trying to _keep it together._ Seeing her like this, so uncomfortable, so unease, was starting to make him feel _better_.

 

_I have the upper hand now. Now you are the one affected more by this than me._

 

It was childish to feel this kind of _power_ toward her maybe, but he couldn't deny it was almost _satisfying_ to feel like this in front of her. She wasn't anymore the one in charge, she wasn't the one that could say or do something and turn it all upside down. Power had shifted along the years, now she was the one that owed an apology, she was the one that had taken a wrong step, or more correctly _dozens_ of wrong steps, and all of them had pushed her far away from him.

 

Now she was the one standing over the ravine of their friendship, balancing herself between forgiveness and rejection. He could decide, he had the power to do that, and this finally gave him the strength he needed to say something, to take a light step forward on his porch, to introduce her private space, and to look her better in the eyes.

 

“What are you doing here?” he growled, his voice coming out as a low and guttural beastly snarl. As if she was a defenseless pray and he was the wild predator, ready to attack if needed. And he was _this close_ to simply push her away, _oh so close_.

 

But then, as if not even a day had passed, as if nothing had changed, as if they were suddenly twenty years old again, and miles and time hadn't kept them away from each other all this time, then she looked him in the eyes. Sadness trembling in the deep brown of her irises, her lips parted ever so slightly, she sighed out softly and started shacking her head, as if she didn't even know it herself.

 

“I didn't know where else to go.” she whispered. And there, in the thickness of her cracking voice, that voice that had hunted his dreams for years, that voice he hadn't heard in so long, that voice that time had roughed just enough to sound smokier than his memory recalled, there Marcus realized she still had power over him.

 

There he realized she was still the one in charge, she still had the upper hand, she was still able to turn it all and _him_ upside down. She was still the same damn Abby. And this was fucked up.

 

He was fucked up.

 

 ….

 

 

Octavia was confused. She didn't know what to do or how to behave, and had been _sent away_ as soon as that stranger had knocked at their door.

 

She didn't know who the woman was, she had never seen her, and that was not what was confusing her. During the years many strangers had knocked at their doors, many old friends of Marcus that she had never once seen. It had always been ok, she had been introduced to them, some she liked, some she didn't. That was it, nothing had ever happened that wasn't simply ordinary.

 

But this, whatever this was, was different. Suddenly there was this woman at their door, a woman she had never met before, and suddenly Marcus was speechless, and she wasn't allowed to ask who this stranger was.

 

 _This_ was what was confusing her.

 

_Who was this woman?_

 

_Why was she there?_

 

_Why Marcus was acting so weirdly all of a sudden?_

 

In all the years she had known him, never once she had seen him speechless, and from an outside perspective this could be seen as no big deal. But it was big deal to her. Because she had sensed something odd when she had stepped into that moment they were having. Whatever was going on, and it was hard to say _what_ since they were both just staring at each other without saying a word, it was something that Octavia didn't know shit about, and it was frustrating her.

 

So she had been sent away, and she had obliged without protesting, it wasn't like she didn't want to say something. Oh she wanted to ask many things, she wanted to know what the hell was going on, who the hell that woman was, what was she doing there, why Marcus didn't want to introduce them to each other.

 

Was he going to let her in? Was she going to say something? Were they going to talk eventually? They surely couldn't simply stare at each other the entire time right? She wasn't an adult yet, but surely she knew how people acted with each other, and this wasn't the way.

 

Was it?

 

_The fuck is going on here?_

 

All of her questions though, were quickly forgotten, as soon as she heard the front door close and the sound of rain stopped echoing in the house. She was sitting on the kitchen counter, her feet swinging in the air, chewing at the inside of her cheek, listening carefully. When Marcus entered the room, she shot him a questioning glare, but his eyes were heavy and he was silent, and as soon as that woman _again_ appeared at his back, she knew whatever had happened before, was still going on.

 

She wanted to say something, she could already feel the taste of dozens of question on the tip of her tongue, but then Marcus inhaled deeply and looked at her coldly. “Go to your room O.” he said heavily.

 

_Again?_

 

She frowned and her eyes lingered on him for a while, trying to read his expression, but she couldn't' wrap her mind around whatever was going on with him, she knew something was off, but he wasn't gonna open up now, he wasn't gonna give her any kind of explanation. So she looked at the stranger then, as if _she_ could give her some sort of explanation.

 

But she was looking at her with the same questions written all over her face.

 

_Who are you?_

 

_What are you doing here?_

 

_What's going on?_

 

And so Octavia hopped on the floor and shot them both a heavy glare, before storming outside and stomping on the stairs that leaded to her room.

 

Whatever was happening, it wasn't her place to know. _The hell with it_. She thought, while slamming the door at her back and jumping on her deep blue colored bed, pressing her face in her pillow. _I don't give a fuck anyway._

 

 

 ….

 

 

As soon as the girl had disappeared upstairs, and had closed the door of her room loudly enough for them to hear, silence enveloped the kitchen again and tension started buzzing over their heads.

 

 _This is hard._ Abby thought. And it was meant to be like this. She was expecting it, she had been thinking of this many times during the years, and in every single scenario her mind had proposed her, in the end, there was always something extremely difficult to face.

 

Sometimes it would end happily, with them forgetting all about it, stepping again in their old routine easily. Other times it would end awfully, with them yelling at each other, anger boiling up in their veins, braking everything a little more, till there was nothing left of the _old them_.

 

But in not even one of those scenarios Abby had imagined Marcus' life as _this_ different from what she remembered. But once again, it made a lot of sense. Twenty years are a lot of time, people change, things still happen, and it was just what usually happens with life. It goes on.

 

It was just right for him to have a family she didn't know a thing about. She had her own too... she had had it at least. And like that, the reason why she had been driving till here was finally back again, and her eyes started filling with tears, tears she had kept crying for all those miles from New York to Arkadia.

 

She had thought it was finally over, how foolish of her to think something like that, of course it was never gonna be over. Seeing Marcus again was just going to make it worse, she should have known better than that.

 

_For a smart woman you are particularly naive Abby._

 

She sniffed, covering her mouth with the palm of her hand, turning her head away, trying to hide her umpteenth collapse. But Marcus knew better, as always, and as soon as she had started wiping away the tears with the wet hem of her coat, he was at her side, his hand full of clean and dry tissues.

 

“Here.” he murmured, and how familiar that simple gesture already felt. At the thought Abby swallowed hard and cleared her throat, nodding him a _thank you_ , taking the tissues without looking at him, turning completely on her heels, facing the door that faced on his living room.

 

She took her time, swallowing back every new sob, trying to calm down her racing heart. She tried to distract herself by looking at the furniture in what once had been their favorite place in the house. The blue couch was still there, facing the garden thanks to the big double windows that let the natural light in.

 

There was a glassy coffee table that she had never seen, a book was opened on it, a pen was balancing on the edge of the table, threatening to fall down on the carpet. That one was knew too, she had never seen it, it was colored in a soft tone of blue and had an intricate white decoration running all over it.

 

The shelves all over the walls were the same her memory recalled, but where filled with many more books, and also some trinkets she had never once seen. In front of the windows, where you could sit and look outside, there were lots of tiny pillows, some were in perfect order, others were scattered over it and one had fallen on the floor. It looked like someone had been sitting there without bothering to clean up after.

 

She liked those windows, she had always loved to sit there with a cup of something hot to sip at, watching outside, looking at snow in winter, rain in fall and the sun in summer and spring, enjoying the peace and quiet of the Kane's house.

 

Memories, the good kind, started filling her heart, and suddenly she could breath again and her heart stopped hammering in her chest, her tears were dry once again and she was back in control of her emotions.

 

“What happened?” Marcus suddenly asked, he had moved farther away from her, his voice was coming from the other side of the room. But still it affected her, and she had to close her eyes once again, inhaling deeply, reminding herself to keep calm.

 

_Easier said than done._

 

She chewed at the inside of her cheek, so strongly, that for a moment she felt pain, and when she tasted blood, she stopped and swallowed. She turned on her heels again, and found him by the large windows overlooking the front-yard, and the street, where her car was parked.

 

He was looking outside, following the path of some wild drops of rain over the glass, trying to ignore her. But he was waiting for her to say something, to explain herself. She wanted to, she had to, and he surely deserved that.

 

But it was so damn hard to collect her thoughts now, to give an explanation she didn't know where to find, because deeply in her heart she knew that whatever she was going to say would never be enough, it would never make up for all that had happened.

 

She was aware of that, but she still had to try.

 

 _Say something_.

 

“Jake died.” she whispered softly. It wasn't the best way to start a conversation with someone you haven't talked to in twenty years, it wasn't the best topic for sure, but what was she supposed to say?

 

That was the first thing that came to her, and it was one of the reasons why she had drove all those miles till here, why she was suddenly back, one of the reasons that had pushed her to knock at his door in the first place.

 

When her words settled in, Marcus finally looked at her, his eyes were heavy, dark and inscrutable. He was silent, and once again he was holding his breath, tensing in his own skin. She licked at her lips and took few steps inside the room, leaving her damp bag on the kitchen island, her coat felt heavy on her shoulders, she took it off and left it on one of the white stools.

 

“When?” he managed to choke out eventually. His voice hoarse, as if he hadn't been talking for days. Abby was adverting her eyes now, looking at her hands while sitting down, supporting her weight on the marble of that fancy kitchen island she had never once seen.

 

_He had changed a lot of things since her departure._

 

“It's one year today.” she whispered, her own voice coming out as a rough whisper, carrying the heaviness of that truth, that new piece of information Marcus needed to know, one of the many things he didn't know. She looked at him then, he was staring at her with such a deep and profound _pain_ in his eyes, that for a moment Abby fell speechless again.

 

“I...” he started to say, but his voice died after that single letter, and he closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, swallowing hard. “God...” he muttered, turning on his heels, pressing his face in his hands, his fingers traveled in his hair.

 

Then Abby realized he had changed that too, it was longer, thicker, it looked soft and suited him. She had noticed also the beard he had let grow on his cheeks and chin, and she had immediately thought that it made him look wiser, not older, he was of course older, she was too, time had passed, but the first thought had been _wiser_.

 

He was a man, not the same thoughtful and almost shy boy she had once knew, he was a different man, just as she was a different woman now. Time had changed and shaped them into this two new people that once had known each other but that now knew nothing, and had dozens of questions for each other.

 

“Marcus?” she whispered his name, trying to get him back to her, at the sound of her voice he froze for a second, she saw it, the muscles in his back tensed ever so slightly, he seemed to be struggling with something, something she couldn't quiet catch. Then he peeked at her, his eyes were shimmering with unshed tears.

 

She felt pain, a great amount of it, pulsing in her heart, she had to swallow to prevent herself from collapsing again.

 

_Now it's not the time for this. He deserves to let it out, you already did that. You had time to do that._

 

She held her breath then and waited for him to say something, giving him time to process the information. Jake had been his friend too, his _best_ friend. They had been together since she had memory, and it was just fair for him to feel pain, to be sad.

 

“How?” he asked, as soon as he had been able to recollect himself, turning to face her again, his posture less rigid, his muscles softening under his skin, he looked defeated. Abby looked up at him, and knew she had to be strong now, she had prepared herself for this, she knew it would come the time when he would have asked her the details, all of them.

 

She had prepared herself, but this didn't make it any easier.

 

“A car accident.” she nodded to herself, memories filling her mind, pain pulsing numbly in her heart, every feeling coming back to her as if it had happened yesterday. “He was driving back home, it was almost midnight... We were talking over the phone,” - her voice started to crack - “I was complaining about the fact that it was the fourth time that week that we didn't eat dinner all together...” - the memory of her frustration still clear in her mind, how stupid of her to be mad at such a thing - “And he kept apologizing, he was calm, so comprehensive, trying to reason with me...” - his voice still echoed in her ears, his soothing words, his apologies reverberating back and forth in her heart, a tear escaped her eye, rolling down her cheek - “But I was _so mad_ , and and suddenly, right when I was about to hung up on him, that _damn truck_ lost control and...” - and the last sound she had heard that night, of metal crashing against metal, of the tires losing adherence over the asphalt, started to pulse in her brain - “And that was it...”

 

She hadn't realized she was crying until her salty tears sneaked between her lips and she could taste them on her tongue. But she didn't wipe them away, not this time, she let them come out freely, wetting her cheeks, reaching her chin, falling on her lap. “He died immediately, his car crashed against the guardrail and the impact broke it into pieces, the car fell over the cliff... but he was already dead.” she said in a rough whisper.

 

She was clenching her jaw now, grinding her teeth with anger, feeling how her blood had started to boil up with rage. She was mad, with what exactly she had never found out. She had felt like this as soon as she had knew what had happened to her husband. Anger had started to build up and had never really faded since then.

 

She was angry to the truck driver, to that damn night, she was angry because he had to work so much, she was mad with fate, with life, with herself for keeping him at the phone, for being angry at him... and she was angry with him too, how unfair for him to leave her and Clarke behind. She was angry at everything and everyone, and at nothing and nobody at the same time.

 

There wasn't someone she could put the blame on, nothing she could have done. It was nobody's fault, the truck driver had an heart attack, he couldn't possibly prevent it to happen, he had tried to stop, the black signs of his tires on the asphalt were a proof of that. He had tried, but the truck had been heavy, his heart had stopped and his body had collapsed, and Jake had been the only one driving there, the only one on its trajectory.

 

It had happened, and being angry wasn't gonna solve anything. Abby knew that, she knew that very well. But her anger had never faded, and was still there, boiling in her veins, consuming her from the inside.

 

Marcus had approached her at some point, she hadn't noticed, she was focused on a stubborn drop of rain that was stuck on a leaf outside Marcus' kitchen, it was stubbornly fighting against the wind, it wasn't falling down with the others, joining the puddle on the grass. When his hands landed over her shoulders, and he squeezed the fabric of her blouse in his fingers, her heart jumped in her chest, and her muscles tensed.

 

“I'm so sorry Abby...” he whispered, so close to her that his breath reached her damp hair, and a shiver ran from her neck to her lower back, leaving a trace of goosebumps over her spine. “I'm so sorry.” he whispered again, and she could now feel the heat of his body few inches from hers. He was so close now, that she could hug him if she turned.

 

And she wanted to do that, she desperately wanted to hug him, like the old times, losing herself in his embrace, and forget about everything, even if just for a moment, even if it was going to be just an illusion, she wanted to do that.

 

But she couldn't, she had no right to seek for that kind of comfort from him, that time had passed, they weren't the same Marcus and Abby, they weren't in that kind of friendship anymore. She had no right, and so she didn't. She remained still on her seat, her hands cupped on the cold marble, her eyes fixed on the stubborn drop of rain, her lips closed in a thin line. Marcus' hands on her shoulders, he didn't move, she didn't speak.

 

They remained like that for a while, the muffled rumble of the storm outside the only audible sound. It was almost comforting to be into this moment, all the tension for a second was forgotten, nothing had happened, and yet everything had changed. But still... this moment felt right, a moment where two old friends were mourning together the loss of someone they both had loved so much, someone they both missed with their whole heart.

 

It was her who finally broke the silence, when the warmth of Marcus' skin had spread all over her shoulders and it was almost unrecognizable from her own. “I'm sorry too Marcus.” she whispered, and she hoped he knew she wasn't just talking about Jake.

 

She was talking about everything, and she knew that a simple _I'm sorry_ wasn't going solve a thing, it didn't explain anything. But she was hoping he would also get that it was all she could give him for now, it was all she had, she wasn't strong enough to say something more. Not that she didn't want to, she desperately wanted to, but she simply couldn't, not now.

 

He said nothing, his hands didn't withdraw, and he kept quiet. Then he squeezed her shoulders, and Abby closed her eyes, her heart felt lighter in her chest, the tension in her muscles faded, she relaxed in her seat.

 

“Why haven't you told me before?” he asked her, his hands squeezing her shoulders a little tighter. She swallowed, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply, trying to find the strength to answer.

 

“I...” she started to think for an honest answer to his question, he deserved at least her sincerity.

 

_I wanted to call you, but how was I supposed to do that? After so long... I left town and you so quickly, we hadn't talked in so long. I knew you deserved to know, I knew you deserved to come to the funeral, to say your goodbyes. You deserved to know. But I was so lost, so desperate, I had so many things to take care of, all of a sudden I had to plan his funeral, I had to take care of our daughter, I was alone with her, it was such a mess, I was so angry. Nothing seemed to work anymore, Clarke was mad at me... you don't know about her either, oh you don't know about so many things Marcus... There's so much we need to talk about, so much I gotta say, so much we should discuss... I didn't tell you anything, I didn't call, I didn't do what I was supposed to do, and I am desperately sorry for it._

 

She wanted to say this, and so much more. She wanted to fill the silence with dozens of words, dozens of truths she had kept for herself only all this time. But instead she managed to choke out just a broken and blatant lie. “I don't know.”

 

_Liar._

 

Marcus was quiet for a while, then he withdrew from her, and she missed the touch immediately, and felt guilty for it. “You could have at least wrote me a letter, something.” he mumbled, and she could hear that he was holding back over his own anger.

 

 _You have every right to be angry Marcus._ She wanted to say, because it was damn true, he had every right to be mad.

 

“You could have called. Anything.” he hissed, and he sounded more hurt than angry now. Abby was torturing her lower lip now, biting at it, trying to draw blood, to feel some different kind of pain. But it was useless. “Why are you here Abby?” he asked, leaning his body over the kitchen counter behind her,

 

“I wanted to come back.” she said, and this time it was half true, she didn't _want,_ she mostly _needed_ to come back again. She needed him, after all this years she had finally gave up to that need and had followed her stubborn heart and had ignored her brain.

 

“Why? After all this time, why now?” he asked, Abby knew that he could guess, he knew that too, but he wanted her to say it out loud. “Abby?” he called her name, when she kept quiet too long. She turned at that, and faced him.

 

“I needed to see you... I couldn't avoid this- _you_ any longer.” she whispered, and this was for once true. It felt good to finally let something honest out, to finally not hide behind another lie, or another half truth. “I'm sorry Marcus, I'm so sorry.” she said again, and tears started to shimmer in her eyes.

 

“Stop saying that Abby.” he growled, and she fell quiet, bowing her head, chewing at her lips, feeling suddenly the taste of blood on her tongue, she stopped torturing herself and avoided his gaze.

 

“I get it... you don't want me here, and you have every right to be mad Marcus-” but he interrupted her with a sad chuckle, she looked up, and caught him staring at her, clenching his jaw fiercely.

 

“You don't get the right to come here after _twenty years_ and tell me how I feel Abby.” he was shaking his head vehemently now, sadness replaced with anger once again. “You have no idea for how long I waited for you to give me a shred of an explanation! You have no idea for how long I waited for you to come back, to call or to even just send me a letter, anything!” he was almost yelling now, his cheeks under the beard were reddening, his breath was coming out shortened, he was furious.

 

“You disappeared, you took all of your things, you left nothing behind, not even my best friend, and you simply disappeared and I never once had a chance to know _why!_ ” he had approached her while talking, and was standing tall few inches from her, she was still sitting, and had always been shorter, but now, in this position, he was way taller and for a moment she felt almost fear running through her veins.

 

“You never came back, and you didn't even think it was my right to know about Jake's death! I'm sorry for what happened Abby, oh believe me I am, but you don't get to disappear and then come back and think you can simply step back into my life like this. I spent years trying to forget you and what you've done. I worked hard to build something, and I was finally starting to live again, I was in peace with myself, I was finally moving on... but you _had_ to show up, didn't you?” his hands were wincing at his sides, as if he didn't now what to do with them.

 

“Why? Why couldn't you just stay behind Abby? Why?” his tone had softened, his yells had faded and had turned into a broken and low whisper. Abby was silent, watching him collapsing in front of her, letting it all go out. “Why?” he asked again, his voice cracking, his eyes were filled with tears and he was trying his best to keep them in, she could see that, she recognized all too well that effort.

 

“I needed you.” she chocked out, her voice sounding more broken than what she wanted, she was crying now, shivering and feeling how her heart was squeezing in her chest. “I couldn't stay away anymore. I was so lost, I'm so sorry, I know I did so many mistakes Marcus. I know I should have told you when it had happened, but it had broke me so much, I'm so sorry.” she had started crying louder now, she was stumbling over her own words, her breath was hard to control, her lungs were burning and her head was pounding hard.

 

Then, right when she was about to lose it completely, Marcus shushed her, enveloping her in his arms, squeezing her with such a strength that for a moment he knocked all the oxygen out of her lungs. The gesture was unexpected, but it was immediately welcomed. Her body collapsed in his arms, and she started sobbing so loudly that for a moment she feared her lungs would explode for the effort of keep breathing. He was diving his face in the crook of her neck now, and she could feel his warm breath tickling at the soft skin of her neck.

 

“I'm so sorry.” she kept mumbling against his shirt, her tears soaking the light fabric, she felt guilty for that, but he seemed to not care, and he kept her there, almost suffocating her against his own chest. His grip on her was so strong, he felt so familiar, all of a sudden Abby felt a teen once again, losing her sorrow into her best friend's arms again, as she was so used to do.

 

It didn't matter that they were not the same people anymore, it didn't matter that twenty years had kept them apart, it didn't matter if he was angry at her, if she was sorry and broken. It didn't matter if she hadn't apologized for all that she had done, if he hadn't forgave her yet, it mattered just this moment.

 

It mattered just that she was collapsing and needed something to hold on to, and that he was there, holding all of her pieces together, giving her what she needed the most now. A shoulder she could cry on.

 

And like that, twenty years after her departure, in the middle of that spring storm, Abby was finally back in Marcus' arms. She was broken, he was too, she had lied, he had to, they were distant one from the other, as far away as humanly possible, even if they were finally in the same room again. But they were here, and here is where their story was finally beginning again, even if they didn't know that yet.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 _Even when this moment ends_  
_Can't let go this feeling_  
_Everything will come again_  
_In the sound falling down_  
_Of the sky as it cries_  
_Hear my name in the rain_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imber: means Rain in Latin (at least it also means that... I mean Latin is hard and a dead language, so let's say it's rain as the dictionary told me ok?)
> 
> The lyrics at the beggining and end of the chapter come from "It's In The Rain" by Enya


	2. Sillage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One, two, three. Breathe.
> 
> One, two, three. Breathe. 
> 
> Marcus was repeating the same mantra in his head since he had followed his damn instinct and had wrapped his arms around Abby. She had started crying so strongly, it had been so heartbreaking, that all of a sudden he wasn't in control of his actions anymore, and his body had decided to take care of her on its own.

 

 

Octavia didn't want to eavesdrop on them. She didn't want to introduce herself into Marcus' private stuff, and yet here she was, sitting on the stairs, curled up in a ball, plastered against the wall between her and the kitchen, listening to the muffled voices coming from it.

 

She hadn't gotten every single word, but she had heard that something terrible had happened to someone, the name had been said too quietly for her to catch it. This someone was known to the both of them, Marcus had just found out that someone he once knew had died. And Octavia felt terribly sorry for it.

 

Apart from this, not much more had been said, she had discovered that this stranger was named Abby, Marcus had said her name, she had disappeared a long time ago apparently, and now she was back.

 

_Why?_

 

Octavia didn't know, and apparently this Abby didn't know herself. When she had started crying though, it had started to become too intimate and heartbreaking for her to keep listening, so she had stormed back in her room, trying to be as quiet as possible.

 

 

….

 

 

_One, two, three. Breathe._

 

_One, two, three. Breathe._

 

Marcus was repeating the same mantra in his head since he had followed his damn instinct and had wrapped his arms around Abby. She had started crying so desperately, it had been so heartbreaking, that all of a sudden he wasn't in control of his actions anymore, and his body had decided to take care of her on its own.

 

Not that he didn't want to comfort her, he had always wanted to help her, to make her feel better. He had always wanted just happiness for her. But now, in this very moment, after so long, it wasn't the right thing to do. He wasn't supposed to feel sorry for her, he wasn't supposed to sooth her, to help her.

 

_This is stupid to say even for you._

 

This woman was a widow, his best friend had died, he had just found out, and still had to process this information. She had the right to collapse and he had the duty to do something about it. It didn't matter how many years had passed, it didn't matter how much he could have suffered, she was still Abby for fuck's sake.

 

How was he supposed to simply don't give a shit about it? To ignore her pain? To let her suffer and simply shrug it off? Of course he couldn't do that. He would never do that.

 

But now, having her so close to him, now that her tears had dried and she had stopped sobbing against his chest, now it was starting to feel almost unbearable. He was feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden. At first  it had felt familiar, natural, instinctive. Holding her in his arms while she cried had been an habit in the past, whenever she had felt sad for something, he was there ready to help.

 

Now he had reacted in the same way, she had started crying, and he had approached her instinctively, his arms wrapping around her trembling frame, holding her against his chest, making her feel his presence.

 

Now that her tears had dried and she had calmed down though, now he didn't know how to handle the situation, how to behave. He wanted to withdraw, to let go of her, to put as much distance as possible between them. But at the same time he wanted to hold her close until she needed him to. He wanted to keep shushing her cracking voice, lulling her to sleep as he had done so many times when they were younger.

 

But he wasn't supposed to do that anymore. She wasn't _his_ Abby, not the same one he had known so many years ago. And he wasn't the same Marcus she once had loved and cared for. They weren't the same and this didn't feel right.

 

And so he started to withdraw, taking a slow step back, she felt him moving, and looked up at him. Her brown eyes were still shimmering with the ghost of tears, her cheeks were red and her lips were slightly parted. Her damp hair were drying, the heaviness of rain forcing them to curl on her back and shoulders.

 

“I'm sorry.” she whispered, her voice rough and thick as velvet. She blinked and swallowed, and Marcus had to advert his gaze, fixing it on the wall at her back. She withdrew completely then, offering him the relief he suddenly really needed. Then she wrapped her arms around herself.

 

Her damp clothes looked heavy on her tiny frame, the humidity of rain was sneaking into her bones, he could see that in every and each one of her shivers. “You should change.” he whispered, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Abby blinked in his direction and pondered about his words for a while, then something passed in front of her eyes, something he couldn't define and then she nodded.

 

“Yes. I should do that.” she started to stand down from the stool, her hands trembled slightly toward her drenched coat and bag. She collected them, and Marcus kept observing her, a frown engraving on his forehead. “I... I hope you will forgive me one day.” she whispered softly, a tender and nostalgic smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

 

“I'll be in town if you...” she thought about it for a while, then shrugged and shook her head. “If you want to talk. I'll be in town.” she murmured, and then walked outside of his kitchen. At her passage, a long and persistent trace of her scent lingered in the air, following her outside. Marcus blinked and cleared his throat.

 

“Wait, Abby!” he stormed after her, she was already holding the knob of the door firmly in her fist.

 

“What?” she said softly, peeking at him from her shoulder. Her wet blouse was stubbornly clinging at her tiny waist, her dark jeans looked uncomfortable over her long slim legs. She kept looking at him in silence. She looked terribly tired.

 

“Where will you go?” he asked, trying to sound all but worried. Because he was suddenly really worried, suddenly his mind was processing all that had happened, and he was starting to ask himself many questions about where she was going, from where was she coming, who was with her, if anyone knew where she was in the first place.

 

Abby pondered over his words for a while, then licked at her lips, a gesture that had always meant she was thinking, and it was probably still the case. “I don't know.” she said, honestly, smiling sadly at him, shaking her head. Her wet curls danced over her back. “I really don't know.” she said again, this time her voice cracked, she inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, swallowing hard.

 

“You came here without a plan?” he asked, tilting his head, observing the way she was gripping at her bag and at the handhold. She looked suddenly _afraid_.

 

“Yeah.” she huffed, and looked him in the eyes, he had approached her again, and she had to raise her head to look him properly in the eyes. “I didn't figure that part out honestly.” she murmured, then smiled softly and opened his door. “I hope you will come to me eventually.” she said, and then stepped outside.

 

Marcus had been so busy into staring at her, that realized it was still raining when she was already walking under the storm. He stepped on his porch and looked at her. She was trying to cover herself from the harsh drops of water, using her white coat. Her bag hanged from her elbow, her fancy boots stumbled over the muddy gravel.

 

_You can't let her go like this._

 

“Abby! Wait!” he called after her, trying to raise his voice over the sound of the storm. He stepped under the rain himself then, taking her by the arm, forcing her to stop and turn. She blinked in confusion and looked up at him.

 

“What are you doing?” she yelled over a thunder. Marcus looked her in the eyes in complete silence for a while, his hand gripping at her arm fiercely, as if he was suddenly afraid she could disappear. As she had done so many years ago. Abby on her side, was looking at him with something that looked like _hope,_ hope for forgiveness? For help? For what exactly he couldn't say.

 

“I don't know.” he said softly, and she didn't push further, her eyes shimmering with dried tears and drops of rain. “Come inside before you catch a cold.” he said, pulling her with him toward his porch, not bothering to wait for her answer.

 

She didn't protest though, and followed him, once they were finally shielded from the storm, she let her coat down and sighed out. He ran a hand through his hair, scattering drops of water over his wooden porch. She was silent at his side, looking at him. One hand holding her bag, the other one supporting her coat.

 

“What?” he asked, when she kept staring without saying a word. She smiled sadly at him and shooked her head, then inhaled deeply and opened her arms at her side, as if she was unable to find the words herself.

 

“I'm just glad you didn't let me go.” she whispered, so softly that for a moment he didn't hear her. But he did. And she knew he did. He kept quiet and entered inside, leaving the door open, without waiting for her.

 

Suddenly her presence was making him feel dizzy, and all that rain had ironically started to make him feel thirsty. “Do you want something to drink?” he asked her, already filling himself a glass directly from the sink. While he started to avidly sip from it, he heard the sound of her heels over the marble floor of his kitchen.

 

She was leaning against the door frame, looking at him with curious eyes, as if he was some kind of funny cute animal in a pet store, and she was a kid in need of a new friend. “Why didn't you just let me go?” she asked him suddenly.

 

Marcus swallowed down harshly, and then looked at her.

 

_Was she really asking?_

 

“It's raining outside.” he said, pointing toward his window. Abby looked in the same direction, then back at him, raising an eyebrow. That gesture he hadn't seen in so long hadn't changed, time hadn't shaped it, it was still the same. Suddenly he wanted her to do it again.

 

“So, now what am I supposed to do? Wait for it to stop... in here?” she asked, leaving her coat and bag on the kitchen island again, crossing her arms over her wet blouse.

 

_She had to change or she was gonna soak everything in rain._

 

“You should take a hot shower, change your clothes, drink something warm maybe.” he said, ignoring her question, nodding to himself, emptying his glass in the sink, turning toward her, leaning against the kitchen counter and pursing his lips.

 

“I don't have other clothes.” she whispered, huffing and sitting down heavily on the stool at her back. “I hadn't thought this through for real.” she muttered.

 

“No you definitely haven't.” he said, looking at her while she massaged her temples. She started frowning, a grimace forming over her features. “What is it?” he asked. She mumbled something that he couldn't quiet catch, so he leaned closer.

 

“I'm tired.” she huffed, her fingers moving in lazy circles over the soft skin of her temples.

 

Marcus didn't know what on earth made him say the next thing he said, he couldn't really wrap his mind around it, getting for what freaking reason he had to say _that._ But he did, and when she looked up at him with confused eyes, frowning slightly, he knew already that this was going to turn out badly.

 

“What?” she asked softly, her hands on her lap, she was blinking in his direction, as if she wasn't sure he had said exactly what she had heard.

 

“Do you want to use my bathroom?” he said again, and _again_ he asked himself why couldn't he simply shut the hell up. Abby raised a curious eyebrow at that and her eyes drifted briefly over the open door of his kitchen.

  
“I... are you sure it's not a problem?” she asked with a soft whisper, squeezing her eyes, trying to read him, as she was so used to do when they were kids. Marcus started shaking his head, pursing his lips, his stare fixed on her.

 

“I honestly have no idea.” he muttered, and Abby kept looking at him, until she smiled quickly and nodded to herself.

 

“Ok, listen...” - she hopped off the stool and took her coat and bag with her - “I will be quick ok? I just need to dry a bit my hair and clothes and then... I'll be out of here as soon as this storm will fade.” she said, glancing outside, where the clouds seemed to promise all but a sunny afternoon for them.

 

“What do you think?” she asked him, tilting her head, few of her now curly hair falling down her shoulder. Marcus didn't know what to say, honestly he was having a hard time processing all of that. So he simply shrugged and Abby took it as her clue to leave the room. She climbed the stairs that leaded to the bathroom without him needing to instruct her.

 

She remembered perfectly how his mother's house was designed, she knew how to walk around and feel comfortable in it, things might be different now, some old stuff wasn't there and some new modern piece of decor was now adorning the rooms. But basically, everything was still the same, and Abby still remembered her way to wherever she wanted to go.

 

Marcus didn't know what to do with that piece of information.

 

 

….

 

 

He was cleaning the mess he had done at his front door, the scattered pieces of ceramic he had completely forgotten to clean up after Abby had entered the house. Outside thunders were still rumbling, inside Abby Griffin was using his bathroom to do... whatever it was that she needed to do, and he was trying to understand how that peaceful Sunday morning had suddenly turned into _this_.

 

“Is she using our bathroom?” Octavia's voice reached him from behind, almost scaring the life out of him. He peeked at her from his shoulder, she was leaning against the door-frame of their kitchen, wearing one of his concert t-shirts and a pair of clingy shorts, her feet bare. Her black hair was messy and her green eyes foggy, she had probably fallen asleep at some point and had just woken up.

 

“Yeah. She was soaked in rain.” he mumbled quietly, focusing again on some stubborn pieces of ceramic that were hiding under the mat, that it was also soaked in amber orange tea now. _Great._

 

“Who the hell is that woman _Kane?_ ” his last name rolling down her tongue with bitterness. Whenever she was angry at something, or whenever she wanted to _press his buttons_ , she would use his last name, instead of Dad or simply Marcus. He huffed and stood up, the black dustpan tingling in his hands.

 

“It's a long story O.” he simply said, walking inside the kitchen, heading toward the bin. Octavia kept her glare on him, her arms crossed in front of her chest, then she stormed in after him.

 

“Would you mind telling it to me? I think I have a right to know why there's a stranger in our bathroom.” she said, her index finger pointing angrily toward the ceiling that divided them to the bedrooms and the bathroom where Abby still was.

 

“You have every right to know it's true.” he said, filling the trash-bin with the broken cup. “But now it's not the time.” he said eventually, taking a damp sponge from the sink, heading toward the front door again. But Octavia stepped in front of him, preventing him to move forward.

 

“You're not gonna walk out that easily Marcus. You gotta explain this to me.” she was boring a hole in his forehead now, her green eyes icy and firm, she wasn't gonna let it drop that easily, he knew her all to well.

 

“O. please, I just don't know how-” but his words died off as soon as Abby appeared behind the girl's back. Her hair drier, but still humid, her honey colored curls were now covering her wrinkled and almost dry blouse, while her pants still looked extremely uncomfortable around her slim legs.

 

“Sorry.” she mouthed, her eyes shifting from him to Octavia. She bit at her lower lip, pondering about her options, but Octavia didn't give her the chance to come up with something, turning on her heels and stepping in front of her, plastering the _fakest_ smile he had ever seen on her lips and stretching out her hand.

 

“Hi, I'm Octavia, Marcus' daughter, and you are?” she asked, her stare fixed on the petite woman in front of her, that was now trying very hard to not advert her gaze, supporting the girl's stare as best as she could.

 

“I'm Abigail.” she said, taking the girl's hand in hers, shaking it firmly. “But you can call me Abby.” she added, smiling, genuinely. Octavia squeezed her eyes, and kept observing her for a while in silence, Abby didn't move nor talked, and simply let her take the time she needed to process that piece of information.

 

“You know my father so?” Octavia asked, taking back her hand, crossing her arms, tilting her head and raising a curious eyebrow. Abby nodded, her eyes shifted briefly over him, she shot him a look that seemed to plead him to do something. But Marcus was suddenly quiet, unable to say or do anything, he knew Octavia was never gonna stop until she had done whatever it was that she felt was her right to do, and so he let her.

 

Furthermore, seeing Abby so uncomfortable once again, he had to admit, was making him feel that kind of _power_ again, that kind of _satisfaction_ he couldn't quiet let go off just yet.

 

“We knew each other, a long time ago.” Abby added, realizing that the girl in front of her wanted more details.

 

“Schoolmates so uh?” Octavia said, leaning her back against the door-frame, relaxing her body, making it clear that this was _her home_ and that she was comfortable in it, and that Abby was a stranger and didn't belong here. It was an habit Octavia had always had, since when she had at first entered his life, six years ago.

 

It was as if she needed to belong to something, to someone, and she actually belonged there, in his house, in his life. But she had to make it clear to whoever entered their house and wasn't _part of the family._ Her brother Bellamy was the only other person other than them that she didn't want to push away, for obvious reasons, but since he had moved to college, it had been just the two of them. And her need to protect what was _hers_ and hers only had been strong since then.

 

“Yes.” Abby answered, her bag and coat hanging heavily from her hands. She was stiffening her back, and her chin was raised. She was supporting Octavia's glare, trying to be accommodating and polite, in front of this girl she had never seen.

 

“But you don't live here anymore, right?” Octavia asked, starting to play with one of her long raven hair. Abby bowed her head and nodded, a breathy chuckle leaving her lungs.

 

“I live in New York now.” she said, her eyes peeking at him. Marcus was motionless, listening and watching, his eyes fixed on her, all of a sudden he was curious but also scared about where this conversation was heading.

 

“The big apple! That's a hell of a difference from this quiet town.” Octavia said with a smile, and Abby smirked softly, nodding to herself.

 

“You can say that.” she whispered, starting to bite at her lower lip. She was getting uncomfortable, or she was simply tired of standing, Marcus couldn't quiet say.

 

“You want me to hang those for you?” Octavia asked, noticing herself the way Abby had started playing with the zip of her bag, shifting her weight from one foot to the other awkwardly.

 

“What?” she blinked toward her, Octavia was stretching out her hand, pointing to the stuff in her arms. “Oh... yeah, that would be nice, thank you.” Abby said, handing her the bag and the coat. Octavia smiled politely and took them with her, moving with confidence toward the door, hanging them lazily as she had done thousands of times with her stuff.

 

“So, what brings you back here after... how long is it?” Octavia asked nonchalantly, leaning again her shoulder against the door. Abby licked at her lips, thinking about what to say, and Marcus took it as his clue to finally step in and interrupt the moment.

 

“That's enough O. Let Abby breath, don't be rude.” he said sternly, looking her deeply in the eyes. Octavia ignored him for a moment, then her eyes settled on his, she glared at him in silence and then shrugged.

 

“Of course.” and with that she flashed them both a constricted smile and walked toward the couch, sitting down heavily, crossing her legs and taking her chemistry book from the coffee table where it was resting.

 

Abby followed her with her eyes and then bit at her lower lip, focusing again on him. “She's quiet a handful, isn't she?” she whispered to him, careful for Octavia to not hear. Marcus chuckled softly with himself, his hands on his hips, he shook his head.

 

“You can say that.” he whispered, his eyes fixed on the girl that was purposely ignoring them both, her index finger running over some formula in her book. Abby was smiling, softly, he wasn't looking, and didn't notice the way her expression softened at his words.

 

“I know the feeling.” she said softly, focusing on the girl again, a nostalgic smile adorning her lips. Marcus blinked at that and turned toward her, frowning.

 

“You have one of your own so?” he asked, not that he hadn't imagined it to be a possibility. She and Jake had loved each other deeply, the both of them had always talked about building a family whenever they had found each other talking about the future, it seemed like the most normal thing to happen for the both of them.

 

“I do.” Abby simply said, focusing on him again, her smile genuine, a soft and pure light flashing in her eyes, she seemed to feel more comfortable all of a sudden. “Her name's Clarke.” she added, before he could ask.

 

“Clarke.” he said, weighting the name on the tip of his tongue, feeling the way it sounded. Abby smiled again, deeply, a low and soft chuckle rumbled in her throat.

 

“She is 18, and is quiet a handful herself. But she's amazing.” she said softly, wrapping her arms around herself, nodding. Marcus was chewing at the inside of his cheek now, his eyes landing on Octavia.

 

“Yeah. They are indeed amazing, aren't they?” he whispered, observing the way his daughter was now leaning her head in the palm of her hand, she looked particularly focused on some hard formula she had been working on since the early morning.

 

“They surely are.” Abby added, leaning against the door-frame, sighing out and closing her eyes. Marcus looked at her again, and observed the way her whole body was trying to find comfort from the solid door at her back, she looked tired indeed, her body seemed on the verge of collapsing.

 

“Why don't you sit down? I can make you something hot to drink.” he said, pointing toward the kitchen island at his back. Abby blinked her eyes open and focused them on him again, they were the same rich chocolate brown he remembered. He hadn't had the time to observe her that much since she had stepped inside less than two hours ago.

 

She looked older, he did too, time had passed and it doesn't matter how hard you try to fight it, you can't win over it. But she still looked like the Abby he remembered, she simply looked _more._ She looked more wise, more experienced, more charming, more mysterious, even more out of reach. She had always been out of reach, _his_ reach at least.

 

“Ok.” she said softly then, walking past him, the trace of her scent once again lingered for few moments behind her, prickling at his nose. Her perfume had changed along the years, she had never used a lot of it back in the past, but whenever she had used it, her choice would always land over something slightly sweet and delicate.

 

Now that she wasn't 16 anymore, but a grown woman in her forties, she had turned onto something spicier, still light and not oppressive, but less sweet and more thicker, it followed her with more persistence, and seemed to cling at her skin more stubbornly. The smell of rain was obscuring its rich notes though, and he couldn't quiet say what she smelled like.

 

 _Not that he wanted to know._ _He surely didn't need to think about that._

 

“Marcus?” she whispered his name, when he had kept quiet too long, staring at her from the threshold. He blinked away his thoughts and hummed.

 

“Yeah.” he sighed, entering the kitchen himself, opening the cabinets above his cookers and roaming his eyes over a series of mugs and glasses. The ones he and Octavia used for breakfast, the spare one they had for Bellamy when he came to visit, the one broken on the edge that they had never had the courage to throw away.

 

“What would you like to drink?” he asked her in a murmur, taking two matching cups from the higher shelf, careful to not brake even these two.

 

“Whatever you have it's ok.” she whispered, her voice slightly muffled, she was facing the window, not looking at him. Marcus nodded with himself and poured some water into the tea pan and then left in on the fire, waiting for it to boil up.

 

He leaned his back against the kitchen counter then and observed the tiny woman sitting in his kitchen. She was toying with the wedding bang around her ring finger, her eyes focused on the storm outside. Rain was still falling down, but it had slowed down the pace, the clouds looked lighter, and the wind was starting to push them away, clearing the sky.

 

 _It will be over soon._ He told himself. _She will be out of here before dinner._

 

“Are you gonna ask me at some point?” she said suddenly, peeking at him ever so slightly, her brown eyes searching for him at her back, but she didn't turn completely, and adverted her gaze almost immediately.

 

Marcus said nothing, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his jaw clenched. “There's nothing to ask.” he said sternly. Abby scoffed, and the sound got to his nerves, he could feel anger boiling up again in the pit of his stomach, he swallowed heavily. Trying to keep it under control.

 

“You had never been a good liar Marcus.” she said, turning toward him over the stool, leaning one elbow on the marble kitchen counter, her curls danced over her shoulders, she crossed one leg over the other and observed him.

 

“What do you expect me to say?” he asked, looking at her deeply and in silence. Abby said nothing at first, then she started chewing at the inside of her cheek and shrugged softly.

 

“Something.” she whispered roughly, her thick smoky voice reverberated over the sound of the water starting to heat up. “You must have dozens of questions for me.” her whisper was careful and tentative. “I'm here. You can ask me whatever you want.” she swallowed, as if she wasn't that sure herself about her own statement.

 

“Oh is that so?” he softly said, tilting his head. “You come back and all of a sudden I finally have the right to ask you what happened, why you decided to leave, and you are just gonna answer me now? After twenty years of silence you are gonna come up clean with everything?” he was gritting his teeth now, feeling a shrill of pain running through his nerves right into his brain.

 

“Marcus-” she started to say, but he interrupted her with a shake of the head, pursing his lips and glaring at her.

 

“What happened Abby? Why all of a sudden you feel the need to explain yourself?” he raised his eyebrows, withdrawing from the kitchen counter, approaching her softly, starting to invade her private space once again, feeling that _rush_ of power running through his veins. Abby didn't even flinch, and held his gaze, her eyes firm and steady on him, her lips closed tightly, her body tensed on her seat.

 

“You made a decision a long time ago. It wasn't fair, it sucked, and it broke my heart. But you made your decision, and you can't take that back now.” he said sternly, his eyes boring a hole in her forehead. She was breathing heavily now, her hands were wincing as if she felt the need to _brace_ herself for something, as if he was somehow scaring her and she felt the need to prepare herself to _fight back_.

 

But they had never fought physically, theirs had always been a game of stares and words.

 

She licked at her lips then, and inhaled deeply. “I can't make up for what I've done.” she muttered, her eyes never leaving his. “And I don't regret any of my choices.” she added, swallowing hard, stiffening her back, raising her chin to look him properly in the eyes. He was taller, she was sitting, the height difference had never scared her though, she had always supported herself proudly against him and whoever had ever had the gut to confront her.

 

“I owe you an explanation though, and I want to do that. It's just _fair_.” she murmured, her eyes were softening slightly now, her voice was lighter, even her posture was less rigid.

 

“Nothing of what you have done had ever been fair.” he muttered, right when the sound of the water boiling in the tea pan attracted his attention, some drops of water were falling over the cooker, sizzling at the contact with fire. “Damn it.” he muttered, jumping toward it, taking it off the cooker without thinking twice.

 

“Damn it!” he yelled again, when the soft flesh of his palm made contact with the burning metal, he let go of the tea pan in the sink, the burning liquid splashed inside of it, flowing away in the pipes. He was gritting his teeth in pain, hissing toward his lack of care. His skin was reddening, pulsing insistently.

 

“Let me see that.” Abby was at his back in a matter of seconds, and she was taking his hand in hers without too many compliments. He flinched at the gesture and withdrew from her, she looked sternly toward him, her jaw clenched. “Don't be a child Marcus. You burned yourself, let me check it.” she growled.

 

“I don't need your help.” he muttered, his injured hand trembling in his grip. Abby huffed and opened the cabinet over her head as if she was in her own home. “What are you doing?” he barked at her, but she ignored him, taking two tea bags out of their package, pushing him away of the sink with a swing of her hips, putting them under the cold water.

 

He was so focused on the pain in his palm that didn't bother to question her any further. “Here.” she muttered, putting them right over the red scratch on his skin. He hissed through his teeth, and she flashed him a soft glance, before focusing on his hand again, wrapping the tea bags with a clean towel. “You gotta keep them there for a while.” she added, before withdrawing completely, huffing and leaning toward the sink.

 

“Hey what happened? Are you ok?” Octavia had suddenly appeared on the threshold, concern flashing in her green eyes. “What the hell have you done?” she asked him, approaching them, looking at his bandaged hand, drops of water scattering over the floor.

 

“He burned himself, nothing too serious.” Abby said absentmindedly.

 

“What do you know?” Octavia snapped at her, reaching for his hand without waiting for her answer.

 

“I happen to be a doctor.” Abby said softly. “Don't touch it.” she added, before sighing out and taking few steps away from them. “I should just leave.” she murmured eventually, walking outside the kitchen.

 

“What happened?” Octavia whispered to him, but Marcus didn't answer her and walked outside himself, keeping his burned hand firmly against his chest.

 

“Abby wait!” he said, more correctly _yelled_. She was collecting her things from the hanger they were resting, and didn't even flinch.

 

“It's ok Marcus, really. It stopped raining, I can just go and book a room, we'll figure this out tomorrow.” she opened the front door, and looked at him one last time, “Or whenever you will feel like it's the right time, I'll let you know where you can find me.” she rummaged inside of her bag then and took out of it a piece of paper. “Here, that's my number, call me... or don't. It's up to you.” she whispered, already stepping outside.

 

Then she stopped, and flashed a look at his back. “It's been a pleasure meeting you Octavia.” she added with a soft smile and a nod to herself, glancing at him one last time, mouthing a soft and inaudible _Goodbye_ , before closing the door and disappearing behind it.

 

Marcus was still processing all that had happened, when the sound of her car driving away reached him. He blinked his confusion away and looked down at the card she had handed him. _When had that happened?_

 

 

**Abby Griffin, MD**

_Critical Care, Trauma Surgery_

 

 

NYU Langone Hospital Brooklyn

150 55th Street

Brooklyn, NY, 11220

 

 

 

And then there was her number.

 

“Are you gonna call her?” Octavia said suddenly, once the house had been quiet for too long. Marcus blinked and turned toward her, clenching his healthy fist around the little piece of paper. She was looking at him with curiosity, not judgment, nor anger, nothing more than innocent and pure curiosity.

 

“I don't know.” he simply muttered, walking past her and climbing the stairs, heading toward his bedroom, closing the door at his back and throwing Abby's card on his bedside. He stared at his bed for a while, before giving up to the collapse he could feel prickling at his limbs and knelt over the mattress, hiding his face in the dark blankets draped over it.

 

And he cried.

 

For a long long time.

 

He cried for all that _she_ had said, for all that _he_ had said. He cried for all that he hadn't been able to ask, for all the answers she held on the tip of her tongue. He cried for Jake, he cried for her, he cried for himself.

 

He cried for all the memories she had brought back to life when she had appeared at his door. He cried for the pain he had been able to shut down, and that had now started to spread all over him again. He cried for the anger he felt toward her, for the rage he couldn't in any possible way simply erase.

 

He cried for the look she had in her eyes when she had been telling him how her husband had died. He cried for the soft smile she had on her lips while thinking of their daughter, that daughter he didn't even know existed. He cried for the surprise on her face when Octavia had called him _Dad_.

 

He cried because she was finally back after so long, and as she had appeared she was once again gone. He cried for the card she had let him, a piece of paper that this time meant she wasn't gonna disappear, giving him a chance to reach out for her. He cried for her stubbornness, for the regret in the sound of her voice, for the tears she had soaked his shirt with.

 

He cried until his body stopped shaking. Until the burn in his palm softened into a dull pulse. He cried until the sun settled. He forced himself in his bathroom then, closing the door at his back. He let fresh water fill the sink and then splashed it over his face, careful to not wet his injured hand.

 

Then he reached for a clean towel and pressed it against his face. When the trace of her perfume spread all over his face, reminding him of her passage in his house, he cried again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sillage - The degree to which a perfume's fragrance lingers in the air when worn.


	3. Room 204

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The “Arkadia Grand Resort” was the only place where you could find a room in the whole town. It wasn't that grand nor looked that much as a resort but it was clean and comfortable, and the owners were a lovely family that still ran the place after twenty years.

 

The “ _Arkadia Grand Resort”_ was the only place where you could find a room in the whole town. It wasn't that _grand_ nor looked that much as a _resort_ but it was clean and comfortable, and the owners were a lovely family that still ran the place after twenty years. What had changed was the girl behind the reception, a young brunette Abby had never seen before, her name was Maya, as the little silver plate attached on her blouse said, she was probably member of the family herself.

 

“Good afternoon ma'am. How can I help you?” she greeted her with a polite but genuine smile, and Abby couldn't help but smile back at her. She had brown warm eyes, the same color of morning coffee and her voice was soothing.

 

“Good afternoon, I was looking for a room.” Abby said, the girl nodded and opened the big book under her nose, her eyes roaming over some scribbled names and numbers, then she looked up, the same polite smile printed on her lips.

 

“For how long will you stay in town?” she asked, tilting her head, her words coming out as a routine she had settled in along the years. Abby pursed her lips and thought about it.

 

_That's a great question._

 

“I actually don't know. It could be a couple of days or maybe even a week...” she let her last words hang in the air, hopeful the girl would get that nothing more was known, not even to herself. She seemed to understand and nodded.

 

“Ok then, room 204 is free, it's yours as long as you need it.” she said, taking a key from the hangers behind her back and handing it to her. “It's 30 dollars per night, is that ok for you ma'am?” she asked, a pen in hand, hovering upon a blank space in the large book on the table between them.

 

“Perfect.” Abby said, smiling to herself, thinking about the fact that with 30 dollars in New York you weren't gonna find even just a single chair to sleep on. Once the girl offered her the pen she took it, and signed right where she was pointing, they exchanged few more polite smiles and then Maya rang a bell that echoed throughout the Hotel.

 

A young boy suddenly appeared, slumped shoulders and heavy steps. He looked bored to death and his lips were curving into some kind of neutral and yet annoyed line. “You rang?” he muttered, his eyes landing on the young receptionist.

 

“Murphy, could you walk Mrs... Griffin, to room 204?” Maya said, impassible to the boy's manners. Abby was balancing her eyes between the two of them with amusement.

 

“Sure.” the boy named Murphy said, looking directly at her, gesturing at his back. “Please, follow me.” he said, his tone flat, but his blue eyes were careful and steady on her. Abby smiled at the girl before approaching him.

 

The boy frowned just the slightest, looking at her back. “No luggage?” he asked. Abby looked at her back herself and shrugged, shaking her head.

 

“No luggage.” she said back, the boy nodded softly and then started climbing the stairs while whistling some melody she couldn't recognize.

 

Abby took her time to look around herself then. The place was still the same as her memory recalled, not that she had ever slept in any of the rooms, but when she had found herself in need of a job, Mr Vie had been so kind to offer her a place in the Hotel's bar, and she had worked there for few summers, collecting money for future possible trips.

 

In the end she had never been able to leave, except for that last summer before her departure. Ironic.

 

“So, where do you come from?” Murphy suddenly asked, while climbing the stairs with bored steps, he seemed to know the place by memory, and seemed to be slightly sick of it. His attempt at making conversation though, made her smile.

 

“New York.” she said, roaming her eyes over the paintings hanging from the walls, they were still the same. How little some things change during time... compared to people.

 

“Wow, quiet a trip you took.” he smirked, flashing her a quick look. Abby smiled politely and nodded, breathing out a faint _Yeah._ “So, no luggage, nor company for a trip that far away from home?” his answer was now getting into private ground, but he didn't really seem to care.

 

When he stopped in front of the room 204, he shifted so that she could use the key Maya had gave her. He was looking at her with curiosity shimmering in his sad eyes, and his lips were now turned into a quizzical smirk.

 

“You don't like your job, do you?” Abby asked him, turning the key in the lock. The boy scoffed and shrugged.

 

“Money is money.” he said, his hands cupped in front of him. Abby pushed the door open and nodded, tilting her head, then she shoved her hand in her bag and took out her wallet.

 

“You're right Murphy.” - she handed him five bucks - “Money is money.” and once the green bills were in his grip, she flashed him a smile and stepped inside the room, closing the door without adding a word.

 

 

 

….

 

 

He was inside of his room since _that_ Abby had left. Four hours of complete silence, Octavia hadn't had the gut to go and knock on his door, asking if he needed anything, or if she could help somehow. It wasn't that she didn't want to, or that she didn't care. On the contrary, she wanted and she cared. It was that she simply didn't know if _he_ wanted her help.

 

So she remained in her room in respective silence, until her stomach had started demanding food, and she had stepped outside, discovering that his door was still closed. She had then walked down to the kitchen and had started roaming her eyes over the food in the fridge, trying to pick something she could easily cook for the both of them.

 

_He will need to eat sooner or later._

 

But they were out of anything _appealing,_ or even in the slightest _tasty_. They had just some meat and vegetables, and it was Sunday, and Sunday always meant pizza or Chinese, or maybe even Thai if they were in the mood.

 

She closed the fridge with a huff and then took out her phone, scrolling the various numbers she had of various restaurants that offered take-out.

 

_Why do we need so many?_

 

Once her stomach had decided for her that pizza was the choice, she pressed her thumb over the number and then waited for someone to pick up. She ordered the usual for her, a large salami pizza with extra cheese, and then for Marcus she picked his favorite, a vegetarian with spicy oil.

 

Then she waited.

 

After not even half an hour the delivery boy was there, with two steaming pizzas in arms. She payed with the money Marcus left for _emergencies_ in the kitchen's drawers. Emergencies in their family always meant take-out of course. Then she left the boxes on the kitchen island and climbed the stairs rapidly.

 

She inhaled deeply before knocking, and then waited.

 

He didn't answer.

 

She tried again, but even this time no sounds came from the other side. Then she sighed and opened the door herself. She peeked inside, and immediately saw that the lights were all turned off, since outside was dark already, she could see just what a street lamp provided her eyes with.

 

Marcus was snoring on his stomach, his face lost into his pillow. He was heavily and deeply asleep.

 

_Well great._

 

She huffed then and approached him, pocking his shoulder with her index finger. “Dad?” she whispered softly, he didn't even move. “Dad?” she tried again, this time shaking him softly. He mumbled something, but his mouth was pressed against the soft cushion and his words got lost into the dark fabric.

 

“You wanna eat something?” she tried again, but he mumbled and groaned, this time shaking a bit his shoulders, trying to slip away from her touch. She pursed her lips then and withdrew, getting that he wasn't gonna wake up any time soon.

 

With a last glance and a soft smile, she walked outside, closing respectfully the door at her back, heading toward the kitchen and taking her pizza with her over the couch. She turned the TV on and started eating while watching whatever thing their pay TV offered.

 

Nothing interesting came up, so in the end she found herself falling asleep on the couch, the remote pressed under her cheek, half of her pizza still untouched, the TV a quiet murmur of voices and sounds echoing around her.

 

 

 

….

 

 

“Yes I'm sure honey, I'm fine.” Abby was pacing her room while talking at the phone. It was a common habit for mostly everybody, to circle around following a random path while talking at the phone. But Abby had always pushed herself forward, sometimes founding herself walking so many miles that she would have to call a cab to get back home, without a single hint of where in the hell she was.

 

“ _What on earth were you thinking mum?”_ Clarke wasn't mad, she was worried, and Abby could sense that in the way her voice was shrilling but not yet growling from the other line of the phone.

 

“Honey, I'm a grown woman, if I want to take the car and go somewhere, I can do that.” she rolled her eyes, already picturing her daughter doing the same from the little room she had been assigned to in her campus.

 

“ _Oh right, so you decided to take a trip to whatever it is called, without bothering to inform me nor even Raven about it. Is that so?”_ she was raising her voice now, but she wasn't yet on the verge of snapping. Abby knew her perfectly of course, and recognized every and each one of her moods. For now she was still the _worried daughter_ and Abby could still work a way through her.

 

“I didn't want to worry you or Raven honey. I simply acted by impulse, and I decided I wanted to pay a visit to... an _old friend_.” she said, frowning with herself at her choice of words. Not that it was a lie, Marcus was literally and old friend, but at the same time... saying it out loud for some weird reason, sounded all but right.

 

“ _Who is this old friend? You never mentioned anyone mum. You always said there was nothing left for you there... in... how is it again?”_ Clarke knew where she and her father had been born and raised, and she had always heard stories of their childhood, but apart from that it was true, Abby had always said to her that there wasn't a single reason to come back. She hadn't been lying, she had always believed it to be the truth.

 

“Arkadia. It's called Arkadia. Anyway, I don't know why I suddenly felt like I needed to come back honey. Sometimes these things simply... happen.” she sighed, sitting heavily on the bed she was going to sleep on for the first time that night. It wasn't the queen size she had back home, but it would do.

 

Clarke remained quiet for a bit, then she sighed out herself, “ _It's about dad, isn't it?_ ” she murmured eventually. Abby bit at her lower lip, of course she was going to get it immediately.

 

_You can't expect your own daughter to not “getting it”._

 

“ _Mum?_ ” Clarke whispered her name softly, when she didn't answer.

 

“Yes.” she said, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply, feeling that pressure over her heart all over again. The ghost of Jake was insinuating itself inside of her brain and heart once again. She had been able to push it a little farther from her along the months, not that far, but it had been _just enough_ for her to breath easily again, even if just for a while.

 

But of course the anniversary of his death had brought back everything, and all of the pain and the sorrow, all of the anger and the regret had crashed over her heavily and hard, so hard that she had found herself overwhelmed.

 

Clarke wasn't home since a couple of months already, and founding herself alone, in the same house she and Jake had picked up together, where their daughter had learned to walk in, where year after year they had built their family...

 

Everything had started to make it almost unbearable for her to stay there any longer, without her daughter at her side, she had felt little and weak compared to the amount of pain she was feeling, and so she had taken her bag and the key of her car and had traveled all those miles to the last person she wanted to see, and yet the very first one her mind had been able to think of.

 

_Well that was quiet hard to explain even to herself._

 

“ _I'm sorry._ ” Clarke suddenly said, her voice was heavier, her tone lower. “ _I'm really sorry._ ” she whispered, and Abby could sense that she was holding back tears.

 

“Oh baby, don't say that.” she murmured, leaning her back on the soft mattress, feeling the way her own throat was constricting around itself, fearing she could burst into tears. She didn't want to do that, she couldn't put such a pressure over her own daughter. _Not again._

 

“ _But I am.”_ she sniffed, this time without even trying to hide it. _“I left you alone, in such a terrible day... I should be there with you mum. We should be doing this together. It's not fair for you to face it alone, whatever it is that you felt the need to do, I should be there doing it with you.”_ she was quietly sobbing now, swallowing hard and breathing rapidly.

 

The sound of her daughter's soft cries made her heart squeeze to an impossible limit, until Abby felt like it could explode and dissolve at the same time. “Clarke.” she said, trying to hide the tremble of her voice. “Clarke please, don't.” she murmured quietly, her eyes closed, her unshed tears burning under her eyelids.

 

“Don't do this to yourself honey, don't go there.” she had lowered her voice into a soft soothing murmur now. Trying to reassure her daughter's worries had always been the best way to ignore her own pain. Focusing on the best for her daughter had always been the thing pushing her forward, even when it had been so painful that she had thought she was going to die, in the end Clarke had always been able to force her back on her feet, because she couldn't let go, not when she needed her.

 

The fact that she thought about the day her daughter was going to be in charge of her life, and she would not be needed anymore, as the day she was going to simply let go and die... didn't mean she didn't want to learn how to move one, it meant that she simply thought she was never going to do so.

 

Sad, heartbreaking, desperate. But undeniably true.

 

“ _I love you mum._ ” Clarke whispered after a while, a long quiet while where Abby had kept listening to the way her daughter had been trying to calm herself down. “ _I really do.”_

 

“I love you too honey. So much...” Abby whispered, wiping away few of her own tears, some of those she hadn't been able to keep in her eyes. “And I'm sorry too. I should have told you before doing something like this.” she added, sniffing and raising herself from the mattress once again.

 

At her words Clarke let out a watery chuckle, “ _Yeah well, we know that between the two of us, you're the reckless one._ ” she joked, and the hint of a smile in her voice made Abby laugh, and her daughter followed, until they were both laughing sadly with each other, sniffing their pain away, one from her little hotel room in Arkadia, the other one from hers in campus, miles away from each other.

 

“ _You should call Raven by the way. She is pissed off. You should also apologize, but I don't know if a simple “I'm sorry” will do.”_ Clarke added eventually, and Abby nodded, even if she couldn't see her. 

 

“Yeah well... I deserve it.” she stated, chuckling when her daughter let out a breathy _Yeah_.

 

They said another couple of _I love yous_ to each other, before promising to call if anything happened, and wishing each other sweet dreams. Then Abby was alone in the silence of her room, her phone in hand, already dialing one of the three phone numbers she knew by heart.

 

It took two seconds for Raven to pick up, and the silence that lingered for a moment too long at the other side of the line, told Abby she was _really really_ mad.

 

“ _I swear to God_ _. I will find out where the hell you are and kill you with my bare hands Griffin.”_ her voice was low and her tone steady. The far away sound of cars told Abby she was probably on her way back home after work.

 

“I know, I know. I'm a bad bad bad person.” Abby said, standing up and starting to circle on herself again.

 

“ _Oh bad isn't even half of what you are. You should be ashamed of yourself woman, you scared the shit out of me, not to mention Clarke. How can a woman smart and brilliant like you, do such a stupid thing as vanishing for almost an entire day? Going who knows where and not bothering to leave a single freaking message to her daughter or her_ _mechanic_ _? I swear Abby, I'm so pissed off that I am this close to hang up on you._ ” she had kept talking without giving her a chance to say anything, but Abby knew better than interrupt Raven Reyes whenever she was angry, especially if she was angry with you.

 

“Once again, I'm sorry. I did something stupid, I wasn't thinking straight. You are absolutely right, I should have at least told you girls where I was going, and it was extremely reckless from me to act like this. I'm sorry, I really really am.” she fell quiet then, listening to the buzzing sound of traffic coming from the other line, then Raven sighed out.

 

“ _I hope you called Clarke before calling me at least.”_ she said, before mumbling something to someone she had probably crashed onto in the chaos that was Manhattan Avenue.

 

“Yes of course. She warned me you were mad.” Abby said, the ghost of a smile coloring her voice. Raven snorted.

 

“ _Mad is not even half of what I feel toward you now._ ” she said while excusing herself to someone else.

 

“I get you are a little busy, I can call later, or tomorrow if you prefer.” Abby suggested, while turning her neck to the left and then to the right, trying to smooth some invisible tension she was feeling over her muscles and nerves.

 

“ _Are you trying to get away from me? Cause that's unlikely to happen Abby, just so we're clear: You owe me an explanation._ ” Raven mumbled. Abby at that bit at her lower lip and closed her eyes, sighing out heavily.

 

“Yeah, I know.” she huffed, before heading toward the bathroom. If Raven was going to keep her at the phone any longer, and she was _definitely_ gonna do that, she could at least use that time to do something useful for her tiredness.

 

When the hot water started filling the bathtub that _luckily_ for her the room was provided with, she started taking of her boots, while squeezing her phone between her shoulder and cheek.

 

“ _Ok then, start explaining yourself.”_ Raven said, falling quiet right after.

 

“Well... there's not that much to say actually.” - and she knew it was a lie, and Raven too could smell her bullshit even from those many miles away, and yet she kept quiet and let her talk - “I am in Arkadia, in Vermont. My hometown, I think I mentioned it a couple of times? Well... I had to come back for... _private manners_ , I had to meet up with an old friend of... Jake” - _and me, an old friend of Jake and me, say it Abby_ \- “So that's why I drove till here, and that's why I'm currently into a hotel room... and... that's it.” she said eventually, trying to sneak out of her blouse using just one hand, huffing in frustration when she realized she wasn't gonna be able to do that, and putting Raven on speaker, leaving the phone on the sink.

 

“ _Ok...”_ Raven said eventually, she was thinking and processing all of what Abby had just told her. “ _So, this friend of Jake... Doesn't he or she have a house? Why do you need to stay into a hotel? That doesn't make a lot of sense to me._ ” Raven said nonchalantly, ignoring completely the fact that this _old friend of Jake_ didn't particularly like her.

 

“Oh well, _he_ has his own family, his private space. And I am ok with the Hotel, it's not like I need more than a bathroom and a bed.” she said, unclasping her bra, throwing it on the pile of clothes she had created on a chair against the wall.

 

“ _If you say so. So, for how long will you be staying there?_ ” Raven asked, her voice now muffled by the sound of food rolling between her teeth, she was as usual eating her dinner while walking, impatient to the hunger that seemed to simply follow her throughout the day.

 

“How many times have I told you to _not_ eat while walking, Raven? It's not good for your stomach.” Abby said sternly, her maternal side buzzing to life. Raven snorted, and she couldn't see her but was pretty sure she had just rolled her eyes at her.

 

“ _You tell me to not do so many things Abby... How am I supposed to remember them all?_ ” and then took another bite, being sure to make as much noise as possible, just to get to her nerves.

 

“You're impossible Raven Reyes.” Abby said, even if she was smiling at her reflection in the mirror. No matter how many times that girl tried to piss her off, she cared for her deeply and loved her as a second daughter.

 

“ _Look who's talking!”_ the young mechanic snapped, drawing a low chuckle from her.

 

“Oh god, I miss you.” she whispered, her voice reverberating over the sound of the water, that was half its way to the brim of the bathtub. Raven was quiet at the other line, but the sounds of the city told her she was still there.

 

“ _I miss you too._ ” she whispered eventually, swallowing down the piece of whatever it was she was eating, and inhaling deeply. “ _But don't you dare do something like this ever again, are we clear Abby? Cause I don't know what I could be capable to do to you otherwise._ ” she added, before Abby could linger too much in the intimate moment they had just shared.

 

“I promise.” she said softly then, sitting on the hot bathtub, completely naked, tasting the warmth of the water with the tip of her fingers.

 

“ _Are you gonna take that bath you are not so subtly preparing yourself?_ ” she said then, the sound of a smile coloring her rich voice. Abby hummed.

 

“I'm gonna dive in right now.” she whispered, taking a small bottle of shampoo from the shelf at her back, emptying it into the water. “Are you home yet?”

 

“ _Just stepped in. You take your bath, also I bet you look extremely stunning right now, assuming you are completely naked, and we'll talk again tomorrow first thing in the morning, ok?”_ Raven said, chuckling loudly when Abby let out a snort at her sassy compliment.

 

“Have a good evening Raven, text me before bed ok?” Abby said, ignoring completely the girl's next statement.

 

“ _You know I am right though, you should take a look at yourself when you're naked!”_

 

“Shut up Reyes.” Abby chuckled, before blowing her an invisible kiss and whispering an _I love you_ that made the girl fell quiet for a quick second, before mumbling a shy _Yeah yeah me too and whatever_ before hanging up on each other.

 

It was with a bright smile and her heart one size bigger, that eventually Abby stepped inside the hot tub and let her naked body be enveloped by the hot and steaming water.

 

 

 

….

 

 

When she stepped outside of the bathroom, wrapped in a soft and clean towel, her damp hair tickling at the bare skin on her back, she let out a deep sigh, before leaning on the bed and closing her eyes. She fell asleep almost immediately. And luckily for her, she had a long quiet dreamless sleep.

 

When she woke up in the early morning, it was because of the sound of her phone ringing with a new message. She blinked her eyes open and stretched her hand to her back, searching for it without bothering to look.

 

She yawned heavily, while her thumb swiped to the left the new message, her eyes didn't catch the name of the sender. When the fog of sleep finally dissipated though, and she could read the letters in front of her without them circling around randomly, her heart dropped in her chest.

 

The number was unknown to her, but she didn't need to put a name to it to know exactly from whom it came from.

 

_12 am. The old dock house. Meet me there, you'll have one hour to explain yourself._

 

Abby was suddenly tensed and rigid, her eyes staring at the message over and over again. Until her brain had memorized it letter by letter, dot after dot. Then she clenched her jaw and typed her answer.

 

_Ok. Thank you._

 

Then she sent it, and waited, already knowing he wasn't gonna answer. After a couple of minutes the blue _thingy_ that meant he had seen it appeared, and that was enough for her. She rolled on her back, stared at the ceiling for a while, before unlocking her phone again, making sure to save his number. Once the new contact read _Marcus_ instead that just a bunch of numbers, she stood up and walked into the bathroom.

 

When her hands gripped at the sink, it took few seconds to her stomach to throw up itself into the pipes. The burn and pain that followed immediately reminded her that she hadn't eaten anything in more than 24 hours.

 

 _Call Clarke, Raven, have breakfast, you wait till lunch, and then it's up to you._ She told herself, splashing cold water over her face.

 

_You'll have one hour to explain yourself._

 

It was never gonna be enough.

 


	4. The White Dress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The old dock house was half an hour from town. Lake Hope had always been the favorite place to party for half the teens in Arkadia. During the week it was a quiet place where some solitary fisherman liked to go and find his peace, while trying to catch something for dinner. In the weekend though, the shore would fill with kids, bonfires shimmering on the dark surface, music buzzing between the mountains.
> 
>  
> 
> Abby remembered by heart the road that leaded to it. She had never drove herself there, it had always been Marcus to take them all there with his father's blue pickup, or later it would have been Jake with his motorbike. But her mind seemed to recall every turn, every tree, every single detail of that road was engraved in her memory.

 

 

The old dock house was half an hour from town. Lake _Hope_ had always been the favorite place to _party_ for half the teens in Arkadia. During the week it was a quiet place where some solitary fisherman liked to go and find his peace, while trying to catch something for dinner. In the weekend though, the shore would fill with kids, bonfires shimmering on the dark surface, music buzzing between the mountains.

 

Abby remembered by heart the road that leaded to it. She had never drove herself there, it had always been Marcus to take them all there with his father's blue pickup, or later it would have been Jake with his motorbike. But her mind seemed to recall every turn, every tree, every single detail of that road was engraved in her memory.

 

When she could see the shimmering lake in front of her, she took a deep breath, parking her Tesla under a giant Oak tree. It took her almost ten minutes to climb down. Her eyes roaming over the blue water, her heart shivering in her chest, her mouth incredibly dry.

 

After her morning incident, she had called both Clarke and Raven, to let them know she was fine, even if she wasn't, and promising to hear from each other later. Then she had put on her _finally dry_ clothes, and had walked down the stairs, to find a rich breakfast waiting for all the guests of the hotel.

 

Dark coffee, some fresh fruit, warm bread and a great amount of blackberry jam later and finally her head had stopped spinning and her legs had been able to support her weight once again. Maya had asked her if she needed anything, if the room was comfortable enough, and if she maybe wanted a map of the town to know where she could go and what she could see.

 

She had liked the girl's effort to make her feel welcomed and to help her as the tourist she thought her to be. But Abby knew the town very well obviously, she didn't need a map nor she didn't need to know what was around there.

 

 _Nothing was around there_ , except for the woods, the lake and the local stores. The girl knew that, but her job was to make tourists feel like they had a reason to come back. She politely informed her that she was there for other business and the girl excused herself with a soft smile.

 

When her stomach was finally filled with food, Abby took a cup of coffee with her and decided to take a walk around town. She didn't want people to recognize her, even if probably half of the town already knew she was back, she just wanted to breath in some fresh air, and take a look around.

 

Things hadn't changed that much for real, every store she remembered was still there, apart for a new bank and a _slightly_ bigger supermarket, everything was still the same. From the library to the movie theater. From the little cafe were she liked to go and study or have a cup of cappuccino, to the only fancy restaurant in the whole town, where she had had dinner just once, when Harvard had accepted her request to study in their Medical School, and Marcus and Jake had felt that was something that needed to be celebrated.

 

She was walking with a nostalgic smile on her lips, ignoring every pair of curious eyes that she could feel pressing on her. Her cup of coffee getting cold in her hands, she kept roaming her eyes over every window, taking in all the details that time had shaped and adapted, without really changing anything.

 

Then was when she stopped at the little store at the end of the road, where and old but pretty woman was used to sell cute summer dresses and giant hats. The old woman wasn't there anymore unfortunately, instead there was a blonde girl she had never seen before. She was adjusting some flowerpots in front of her store while singing a song she had never heard before.

 

Abby didn't know exactly what made her stop, she wasn't that into shopping if it wasn't really necessary. But that light white dress seemed to be calling her name, dancing in the wind, the long but not too long skirt seemed so comfortable, few white ribbons adorning the upper part, sleeveless, with lace covering the shoulders and the waist.

 

It looked _peaceful,_ and Abby had never thought a dress could look peaceful. That was why she stopped in her tracks, smiling fondly while caressing the soft fabric.

 

“It's pretty isn't it?” the girl said suddenly, appearing at her side. Abby blinked in her direction, falling out of her lonely trance. The girl's eyes were curious, but she didn't seem to know her, _good_. “It's a new piece I made last week.” she said, smiling and taking it from the hanger, adjusting it to her body without asking for her permission. “It would look awesome on you.” she said, flashing her a smile.

 

“I... I don't know if-” Abby started to protest, but the girl shook her head and smirked.

 

“Try it, then if you don't like it you don't have to buy it.” she said softly, handing her the dress without too many compliments. Abby licked her lips, pondering about the idea. It was true that it was pretty hot today, that dress surely looked more comfortable than her dark jeans and her blouse. Furthermore, she could use a change, and those clothes needed to be washed properly.

 

“Ok.” she finally said, drawing a smile from the young seller. Ten minutes and twenty bucks later, Abby was in her room, changing from her New York usual outfit, to something that would fit Arkadia better.

 

She climbed off her car and closed the door quietly, afraid he could hear her and run away.

 

_He asked you to come._

 

She bit at her lower lip, her hands trembling around the key of her car, shoving them in her bag. After she had adjusted her hair behind her ears, soft curls caressing her back, that was slightly exposed by the light dress, she started walking toward the lake, where the old dock house and _Marcus_ were waiting for her.

 

 

 

….

 

 

“Where are you going?” Octavia asked, while filling her mouth with an incredible amount of cereals.

 

“Would you mind chew and swallow before talking, O.?” he chided her, his eyes cold and his tone stern. Octavia froze and looked at him, raising a curious eyebrow, a drop of milk flowing down her lips along her chin.

 

“Bad mood uh?” she said, once her mouth was clean and her cereal had properly been swallowed. Marcus huffed and clenched his jaw.

 

“I'm fine.” he muttered, at that Octavia raised her eyebrow even higher, and tilted her head, wearing her typical _Are you seriously trying to fool me like this?_ expression.

 

“I'm fine.” he said again, trying to offer her his best smile. She kept quiet, her expression softened, until she shrugged and shook her head, muttering something to her bowl of cereal.

 

“I'll be back in a couple of hours, ok?” he said, taking his leather jacket form the hanger and the keys of his pickup from the shelf beside the door.

 

“Yeah.” she yelled back at him, “Say hi to Abby for me.” she muttered, when he had slammed the front door and couldn't hear her anymore.

 

 

 

….

 

 

 

It was a quiet and peaceful Monday morning. The sun was gentle over the crystal clear water of the lake, that was quietly lapping at the shore. The dock house was murmuring over the surface, the wooden walls were gently singing with every blow of the wind, the dock bounced softly under Marcus' weight.

 

He was sitting over the edge of the pier, losing his eyes into the deep blue expanding under his boots, reflecting the cloudless sky in every ripple and gentle wave. When the sound of new light steps made the wood sing and bounce, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

 

Abby kept quiet at first, maintaining a respectful amount of distance between them. Until she decided it was enough, and approached him slowly, casting her trembling reflection over the surface of the lake. That same lake they had learned to swim in, and where her father had always loved to go fishing in the early Sunday mornings. That lake that he always visited once in a while, even if it was painful to come back, he had never been able to simply stop coming.

 

When he thought she was never gonna talk or move, she surprised him by sitting down at his side. Marcus kept his eyes stubbornly glued to the water, his body tensed, his back was already hurting. He was supporting his weight on one of his legs, that was secured against his chest, while the other one was lazily swinging in the void right over the lake.

 

She was still silent, and in the corner of his eyes he could see her hair dancing in the wind, soft curls stroking what looked like a white dress.

 

 _When did she have the time to buy that?_ His mind started working hard around the weird feeling that light dress was giving him, but he couldn't quiet wrap his mind around it, and it was frustrating him.

 

“I always loved this place.” she whispered, shushing his worried mind, her eyes running from the trees around the shore, to the mountains scraping the blue sky above them. Her glance kept dancing over the memories that place still held, reaching for the horizon and jumping back at the water gurgling under their feet.

 

Marcus clenched his jaw and kept quiet, he wasn't gonna talk, this wasn't part of the _plan_. He wanted _her_ to talk, to explain herself, to do what she had come here to do. Then she could go back to her new life, to her daughter, to whatever she had left behind.

 

_He wasn't gonna talk._

 

“Do you remember when we took that old boat and started circling the lake over and over again?” she was smiling, he could hear it in her rich voice, the way her lips were stretching over her words. “Then, I don't remember if it was you or Jake that started rowing in the wrong direction...” - _him_ it had been him - “...but anyway, then the boat rolled on its side and we fell into the water.” - she chuckled at the memory - “God... I remember the fever that followed.” - she leaned toward him at that, almost whispering that _secret_ into his ear. Even if it wasn't a secret at all, he remembered that day perfectly. - “It was worth it though.” - she added eventually, lowering her eyes toward her lap, playing with one of the laces that was falling from the ribbons covering her chest.

 

Marcus closed his eyes, inhaled deeply and then looked at her, because he couldn't fight that urge any longer. To his surprise, she was already looking at him. Her eyes were soft and nostalgic, the blue of the lake was reflecting into the richness of her deep brown irises, her gaze was focused and careful. Her lips were curved into a sad smile, soft and almost imperceptible.

 

She was quiet once again, but didn't seem to be waiting for him to say something, it seemed more as if she was trying to find the strength to say all the things she wanted to say. She was struggling with her own thoughts, fighting over something buried deep down within her, something he couldn't reach and take out by himself.

 

She had to do it alone.

 

So he waited.

 

At first they kept staring at each other for a while, and it wasn't awkward, nor embarrassing, it was _familiar_. Looking without talking, staring and thinking, and Marcus had found it terribly easy to get lost into her rich brown eyes once again. It was so easy to simply stare, to feel that need to look and look, to capture every detail, to memorize every line of her face, the curve of her lips, the light in her eyes.

 

When that _weird_ feeling started growing in his chest again, making his heart squeeze and turn almost painfully, he adverted his gaze, and fixed it over the lake once again. Abby didn't protest, and after a little while, she looked away too. Then she took a deep breath and started talking again.

 

“I'm sorry Marcus.”

 

_Here we go._

 

“I really am. Maybe you don't believe me, or you don't care. But it's true, and...” - she briefly looked at him, but when he didn't look back, she shook her head and started bouncing her attention from the lake to the sky - “...and I feel the need to say it, even if it doesn't make up for all this time, I still need to apologize. I just want you to know that... I realized, with time and a lot of work, I realized that it was unfair, and that I was stupid.” she was nodding to herself now, as if saying it out loud made more sense than simply keeping it inside of her head.

 

“I don't even remember why I didn't call or write to you at first.” her voice was calm and sad, and Marcus wasn't sure, but he had the feeling she was lying on purpose, as if she wanted to pressure him into say something back.

 

_Not gonna happen._

 

“Then it was simply... _too late._ Life was such a chaos. Harvard is an amazing opportunity, a great college of course, but I gotta say it's difficult to focus on something else than books and exams.” - her fingers were fighting one with the other over her light dress - “Then I got pregnant, and I was so shocked, and so scared...” - her voice had softened, a new smile had blossomed on her lips, that memory was a good one, one she knew how to handle - “Jake had been the one to convince me we could do it. That we could still focus on our studies and also build our family. He wasn't scared, not even a bit.” - she chuckled, losing herself into a memory Marcus couldn't share with her.

 

“When Clarke was born I realized that I had made the right decision.” - at first Marcus asked himself if she was talking about going on with the pregnancy, but then realized she was talking about leaving Arkadia, _choosing_ Jake and New York over _him_. - “I was doing something that made _me_ happy.” - she sighed - “You can _hate_ me forever if it's what you want. I wouldn't blame you if you decided you don't care anymore.” - she turned toward him then, without caring if he looked back or not - “I wouldn't blame you if you would never forgive me. Trust me, I get it. But I just needed you to know that I am sorry, that it wasn't your fault... nor mine. It was nobody's fault.” - she sighed and closed her eyes, covering her face with the palm of her hands, shutting out everything for a moment.

 

“How can we blame ourselves for decisions we made so long ago? I mean, I do blame myself, but why can't we just accept that we did something that _at the time_ felt right... and that suddenly doesn't feel right anymore?” - she licked her lips, thinking deeply - “I was happy you know? I was happy here, _you_ made me happy.” - she smiled softly at him, he saw it in the corner of his eyes - “I _loved_ you too. I cared, even if you don't believe it, I really did.” - her hand winced over her lap, as if she wanted to reach for him, but decided against it - “I know you cared for me too. I know you loved Jake and me, we both knew that.” she sighed and closed her eyes.

 

“He didn't want to leave, you know?” - she asked, without asking - “ _I_ was the one that took the decision to simply leave all behind. But I don't have to say that to you. He wanted to follow me, that wasn't what was keeping him. What worried him the most, was the idea of leaving _you_ behind.” - Marcus inhaled deeply at that, feeling how his heart had started shivering in his chest again - “I just wanted to let you know, that the blame is all on _me.”_ she sniffed. _Was she crying? She couldn't cry. Not again. He wasn't strong enough to see her cry again._

 

“My life has been sweet, I was lucky. I am not gonna say that I regret leaving Arkadia, that I regret studying at Harvard, becoming a doctor, a mother, a wife. I would do that thousands of times again.” - she was nodding firmly, looking at him - “What I regret the most, is not giving Jake a chance to reach out to you. That is why I came back.” - her whisper was heavy, low, warm but cold at the same time - “I wanted to call you, when it happened... I wanted to let you know.” - she swallowed hard, Marcus closed his eyes, forcing back the tears that once again were prickling at his eyes - “But it was so hard to find the courage. To find the strength to call, after all those years and... and say to you the only thing I wasn't able to accept myself.” - tears were rolling down her cheeks without her consent now - “I was a _coward_.” she hissed, mostly to herself.

 

“A coward.” she muttered again, turning her body, facing the other side of the lake, wiping away her salty tears, as if he hadn't heard the pain in her voice already, or the way her words had started shivering till her voice had broke. “I'm sorry.” she stood up at that, and walked away, rapidly.

 

The pier bounced in rhythm with her pace, messy circles danced over the blue surface of the lake. Then, between a tear and the other, Marcus finally talked. “Abby!” he yelled her name in the silence of the lake, standing up rapidly, scanning his surroundings.

 

At first he thought she had ran to her car and had simply left. But no, her Tesla was still parked under the old Oak tree over the lake.

 

_Where are you?_

 

He started walking toward the old wooden house, slowing down when the sound of her sobs reached him. He closed his eyes, clenched his jaw and stopped. She didn't seem to notice his presence few feet from her, she was focused on her moment of old memories, regret, pain. He turned the corner of the little wooden house, and found her there, leaning against the door, wiping away every new tear with trembling hands.

 

Her light dress caressed by a soft breeze, her hair dancing over her bare shoulders, she was crying making as less noises as possible. It was as if she had practiced during time how to cry without being heard. She had suffered, he could see that. He recognized that look in her eyes, he had been staring at a similar one for years, whenever he had looked himself in the mirror.

 

It wasn't the same thing, she had lost her husband, he was dead, there wasn't a single chance in the world for him to come back. He had lost his best friend, she hadn't died, she simply had never came back to him.

 

But then again, _pain is pain._

 

 _You lost Jake too._ And this time forever. It was weird to think about the fact that he was never coming back. He had been gone for twenty years, just as her, he had realized they were never coming back a long ago. He had _accepted_ it, somehow, sort of.

 

But now, knowing that one of them was actually never coming back again, that there wasn't a way to reach out for him, now that he was sure to never see him again. Now it felt as if he was going to come back. Just as Abby had done, he almost expected to see him come after her, joining them into this painful and heartbreaking reunion.

 

But he wasn't gonna come back, he wasn't gonna show up. He couldn't. He was dead. That was why Abby was here.

 

_She needs you._

 

She had faced all of this alone, taking care of her daughter's pain as well, facing the death of her husband, learning how to keep breathing without the man she loved at her side.

 

 _She did this all alone._ Yes. _She could have called._ True. _She hadn't done that._ Also true. _She left and she is back now, because she needs you._ And this was growing _anger_ into him once again.

 

Was it fair to feel this angry toward a widow? Toward the woman that had once been one of his best friends? Was it fair to feel like this toward the woman he had waited for so long? The woman that was finally back? So close to him, that he could touch her shoulder if he took just another step toward her?

 

_Was it fair for her to come back and ask for his help after all this time?_

 

He didn't know how to answer to his questions. There wasn't a single answer for him now, he didn't know what to think, he didn't know what he was supposed to do, tell, feel. What he knew, was that he couldn't seem to stay away from her. Even if he had hoped she could simply disappear, as soon as she had showed up again, even if it was _pain_ what her eyes and her voice had made him feel just yesterday...

 

...he still couldn't let her go.

 

_Not again._

 

He had waited for so long, he had hope, prayed to Gods he had never believed in. He had fought so hard against the almost unbearable pain he had felt in his heart at her departure. How many nights had he spent crying over boxes of pictures, gifts, letters, memories he couldn't throw away.

 

Memories he was still keeping, hidden into his attic.

 

_How was he supposed to let go of her?_

 

_Why did he have to do that?_

 

_Was it the right thing to do?_

 

_Was it the worse thing to do?_

 

_What was he supposed to say?_

 

_How could he help her?_

 

_Was really him the one she needed?_

 

_Was she gonna disappear again if he let her in again?_

 

_Did he want to let her in again?_

 

His head was suddenly hurting, and he felt weak on his legs. “Damn.” he hissed to himself, Abby heard him and realized she wasn't alone anymore. She turned rapidly, clearing her throat and blinking away the tears that were blurring her eyes.

 

He was holding his head, leaning his back against the wall of the dock house. His back tensed, he was swallowing hard, trying to find a single reason to simply walk away from her, as she had done so many years ago.

 

_But he couldn't._

 

“Marcus...” her voice hit him hard, as if she had just punched him in the face. He swallowed back a sob, his throat was painful with the effort to _keep it together_.

 

“I don't-” he tried to say, but his voice was cracking, and his heart was racing in his chest, making it hard to breathe. He looked at her then, her eyes were soft and tears had traced random patterns over her cheeks. “I don't know what you want me to do Abby.” he whispered, shaking his head. Tears running down his eyes too now.

 

“I don't want you to do anything Marcus.” she said, breathing heavily, her light dress following the dance of the wind that was softly howling around them. “I just wanted you to know that it wasn't your fault.” she said, her eyes roaming over his body, getting lost on the tip of his boots. “It wasn't your fault.” she murmured again, wrapping her arms around her waist, shielding herself from the wind? Him? He didn't know.

 

“Are you sure about this?” he said, surprising even himself. He had always thought it had been _her_ fault. _She_ was the one that had left. _She_ was the one that had chosen Jake and Harvard, another city, another life. _She_ had been the one to never call, never write, never search for him.

 

Then _why_ hall of a sudden he was asking her this?

 

“What do you mean?” she asked, her eyes trembling a little more.

 

“You left right after Paris.” he said, almost shocking himself, _what was this coming from now?_

 

Abby frowned, the way she flinched slightly at the mention of their summer trip, didn't go unnoticed from him.

 

“No, I left almost two years after that...” she whispered, tilting her head softly, trying to find the meaning of his words right into his eyes, as if she was still able to do that, to read him, to get all the answers she needed without asking for them.

 

“You know what I mean.” he murmured, withdrawing from the wall, feeling the way his leather jacket softly adjusted to his muscles again. Abby raised her chin, locking their eyes.

 

“Then you know it wasn't actually _me_ the one who left _._ ” she said, raising a challenging eyebrow, stiffening her back.

 

_She knows what you mean. Of course she does._

 

Suddenly she was focused on a different kind of emotion, it wasn't a good one, but at least she wasn't thinking of Jake anymore. He was distracting her from her pain, focusing her attention on something else, something that the both of them had promised each other to never talk about. Ever again.

 

“We still seem to disagree on this topic." he growled, invading her private space, his dark eyes heavy on her. She clenched her jaw, and held his gaze, not afraid to stand up for her version of the facts, _again._

 

“It seems so indeed.” she murmured, her lips moving slowly around every word. His eyes flickered to her mouth briefly, then he fixed his stare on her again, shaking his head.

 

“You are good at apologizing for just _half_ of the things you did apparently.” he said, meaning every word. They had an effect on her, but she had practiced during time, and was better at hiding her emotions if needed, as if she was doing now.

 

“I have nothing to apologize for. Not about Paris. And you know it.” she hissed, invading his private space, they were so close now that her hair was prickling at his nose, and her scent was suddenly invading him.

 

“You expect _me_ to apologize?” he hissed, his teeth torturing the inside of his cheek. Abby shook her head, her eyes steady on him.

 

“ _I_ don't need your apologies.” she said, turning on her heels, walking toward the lake, her arms crossed, she started gazing at the blue shimmering water.

 

“What's that supposed to mean?” he asked, without following her. She peeked at him from over her shoulder, smiling sadly.

 

“Nothing.” she shook her head, lowering her eyes and turning away from him. She looked up, the sun bathed her with a warm light, she inhaled deeply and smiled. “I simply don't want you to apologize for something you did _so long_ ago.”

 

Marcus could feel that wave of anger again, boiling up in the pit of his stomach.

 

 _She is doing this on purpose._ She was pressing his buttons, teasing him, trying to cause a reaction. _She hasn't changed._

 

“We are not gonna play this game Abby.” he said, shaking his head. She kept her attention focused on the sky, then hummed.

 

“We do just what you want to do.” she whispered, and then started playing with the necklace around her neck, where a ring was shining. “It's your call.” she whispered, finally watching him again.

 

“I don't wanna do anything.” he said, shaking his head again. Abby nodded, smiling softly and approaching him again.

 

“Ok then, don't do anything.” she shrugged, her fingers were still toying with the ring over her chest. Marcus looked at it for a while, how the sun reflected over it, how her long fingers played with it as if it was an old habit.

 

“When will you leave _again_ this time?” he said, careful to emphasize the word again. Abby scoffed, but then sighed out and shook her head.

 

“I am not leaving.” she said, searching for a reaction into his eyes. But he was a blank mask to her now. “Not this time.” she said again, more softly, an emotion passed through her irises, it was fast, too fast for him to recognize it.

 

“Good. Enjoy the town then.” he said, turning his back to her, walking in the opposite direction of where she was standing. He had to admit, it was hard to go and leave her behind him, without saying anything else, without waiting for her to say something back. But at the same time, that _power_ and that weird _satisfaction_ he had felt yesterday, were there again.

 

Knowing he had the upper hand, knowing he could reach out for her, but she wasn't gonna reach out again without his permission, that was once again making him feel _powerful_.

 

He had _never_ felt powerful when it was about Abby. Nobody was powerful compared to her. So that was why he wanted to linger into this feeling as long as it lasted.

 

Because _knowing Abby_ it wasn't gonna last that long.

 

 

….

 

 

“No seriously Bell, I don't know what am I supposed to do and-” when the front door closed, announcing that her father was back, Octavia stopped talking. Marcus sighed out heavily, the sound of his keys landing in the little plate on the shelf echoed throughout the house, then he started walking toward the kitchen.

 

“He's here, gotta call you back.” she hissed into the phone, hanging up on her brother before he could protest. When Marcus entered the kitchen, wearing a big warm and _absolutely fake_ smile on his lips, she was nose buried in her chemistry book.

 

“Hey there.” he said, his voice definitely too shrilling to sound neutral.

 

“Hey...” she said, her frown engraving doubtfully. Marcus smiled even deeper, for a moment Octavia feared he would tear his face apart. “You came back earlier.” she said, her eyes flickering over the clock hanging from the wall.

 

“I did?” he asked, busying himself in the freezer, taking a bowl of chocolate ice-cream.

 

_It went that bad uh?_

 

“Yeah. Listen...” - she hopped off her stool - “I gotta finish studying this crap before the weekend.” she said, waving her book at him. Marcus was already diving a spoon inside the bowl in his hands.

 

“Yeah, sounds great.” he mumbled, fighting with the surface of the frozen chocolate.

 

“Yeah... so, I am gonna just hide in my room the entire day. Is that ok with you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow when her father, _an actual adult,_ started licking the ice-cream directly from the bowl, because too impatient for it to melt.

 

“Yeah, absolutely ok with it.” he flashed her another big smile, before printing a quick kiss on her forehead and walking past her, heading toward the couch.

 

Octavia blinked in confusion and followed him. “Are you ok?” she asked, when he sat down heavily, turning on the TV, starting to run through the dozens of channels they payed for but never actually watched.

 

“Totally fine.” he said, once again flashing her that _awkward_ smile. Octavia pursed her lips but kept quiet.

 

“Ok.” she said, starting to climb the stairs backwards, before turning on her heels and rushing in her room.

 

As soon as her door was locked at her back, she threw her book over her bed and dialed Bellamy's number. It took few seconds for him to pick up, she didn't wait for him to say anything though.

 

“Bell, it's _way worse_ than what I thought. You gotta come back home _now_.”

 

 

….

 

 

“So, did the dress help?” Niylah, that was the name of the girl that ran the store at the end of the road, asked Abby, as soon as she had climbed off her car, the parking lot was _conveniently_ situated in front of her store of course.

 

“With what?” she asked, while smiling when a kid laughed heartily from the other side of the road.

 

“With whatever it was that you had to do. You looked like someone who needed a dress for a specific purpose.” she said, leaning her shoulder over the threshold of her store. Abby frowned.

 

“I just needed a dress, it was too hot for pants. That's all.” she said, shrugging. The look that young woman had on her face though, told her she didn't believe a single word.

 

“Well, did it work? Is it comfortable enough?” she asked, while busying herself with one of the flowerpot decorating her window.

 

“I think so.” Abby said, suddenly not really sure she was talking about the dress at all.

 

_Obviously she isn't talking about the dress Abigail._

 

“Well, you don't seem too sure about it.” she tilted her head, and approached her. “You can still change it if you don't like it.” she said, then smiled, roaming her eyes over her tiny frame. “But that would be a shame, it looks perfect on you.” she said, flashing her a genuine smile.

 

“I like it. There's no need to change it.” Abby said, nodding and returning the smile. Niylah hummed and walked back to her flowers.

 

“I hope it will work next time.” she said, without looking back at her. Abby said nothing, and bit at her lower lip, nodding to herself.

 

“Yeah... I hope it too.” she whispered to herself, before mumbling a _Goodbye_ to her and walking away. She didn't see the way Niylah looked at her while she walked away, with a soft sad smile on her lips, mouthing to her a delicate _Good luck._

 

 

….

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

> _So, how's it going there mum?_
> 
>  
> 
> **Yeah, how's it going? When are you coming back?**
> 
>  
> 
> **Cause you are coming back, right?**
> 
>  
> 
> _Of course she is coming back._
> 
>  
> 
> **You never know with this woman.**
> 
>  
> 
> _Mum, please, tell Raven you're coming back!_

 

 

Her phone started buzzing as soon as she had entered her hotel room, she took it off her bag and started smiling, reading the new messages she had received in the conversation she shared with Clarke ad Raven. It had been their idea of course, and at first she had thought she didn't need it, she could easily text them both in different chats.

 

But according to them, she was _terrible_ at keeping them informed on what she did and where she was. Not to mention the fact that she was also terrible with technology in general, like this it would have been easier, in their opinion, to track her. _The more the better_ Raven had said.

 

Eventually she had settled to the idea of talking with the both of them at the same time, it felt a lot like being all together, she had to admit it. Even if she had to be careful and remind herself that _you can't plan a birthday party in the same chat where the birthday girl is._

 

 

 

 

 

 

> _**I'm fine. Everything is fine. How are you?** _
> 
>  
> 
> _**Oh and YES of course I will be back Raven.** _
> 
>  
> 
> _Told you._
> 
>  
> 
> **Ok, my question was when actually.**
> 
>  
> 
> _**I don't know yet. I'll let you know as soon as I will be done here.** _
> 
>  
> 
> _You're sure you are ok mum? You need anything? I can take a plane anytime!_
> 
>  
> 
> **Yeah, I could too actually. Thanks for always thinking of me Clarke.**

 

 

Abby smiled softly, sitting down her bed, feeling that pleasant warm wave of affection that grew in her stomach whenever she talked to them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

> _You know what I meant Reyes!!_
> 
>  
> 
> _**There's no need to argue girls. And no Clarke, you don't need to come here. I'm fine.** _

 

 

She sighed out, and relaxed over the mattress, stroking the soft fabric of her dress.

 

 

 

 

 

 

> **Once again. Thanks for thinking of me too.**
> 
>  
> 
> _Mum, why is Raven this insufferable all of a sudden? Can you please make it quick? I don't know if I can stand her that much longer._
> 
>  
> 
> _**Raven honey, there's no need to worry. Also, you're not insufferable, you're adorable.** _

 

She typed the last word with a knowing smirk, she could already picture the young mechanic blushing in her garage, while shaking her head. She wasn't yet that used to give and take affection, even if she liked it, and Abby could tell it by the way her smile always grew a size bigger whenever she told her she cared for her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

> **Yeah yeah, whatever you say Doc!**

 

 

She smiled _._

 

 

 

 

 

 

> _So, will you at least send us some pictures? To be sure you are where you say you are?_
> 
> **RIGHT! What do we know about this Arkadia anyway? Does it even exist? Are we actually talking to you now? Wuo, wait a sec, have you been kidnapped and can't tell us? Do we have to send help? Just say the word!**
> 
> _Oh wow, you surely know how to **not** keep calm Raven. _
> 
> _**I'm fine. Arkadia exists yes, and no I haven't been kidnapped, I'm pretty much fine. Also... you should chill out Raven.** _
> 
> **Chill out? Ok Clarke it's official, this isn't your mother.**
> 
> _She has a point here mum, who the hell says “chill out”?_
> 
> _**Kids say that all the time... don't they?** _
> 
> **Once again, this isn't your mother. Ok, who are you? And what have you done to Abby Griffin?**
> 
> _Mum, first of all I'm sorry to be the one that gotta say it but: you are not a kid anymore!_
> 
> _Second... please don't say that again, it gives me the creeps._
> 
> **Yup.**
> 
> _**So melodramatic. The both of you. As always. You know you two should just...** _
> 
> _No mum no!_
> 
> **Please Abby DON'T.**
> 
> _**...CHILL OUT.** _
> 
> **Oh Jesus.**
> 
> _You are terrible mum, really terrible._

 

Abby laughed, feeling at home in the middle of a hotel room, with nobody around her and just her phone in hand was giving her the good kind of goosebumps. Making her feel warm all over, comfortable, in a safe place.

 

 

 

 

 

> _**Oh I miss you girls.** _
> 
>  
> 
> _We miss you too mum, a lot._
> 
>  
> 
> **True. That's why you should come back. It's pretty annoying here, and I don't have that much work to do without you breaking your car every two days.**
> 
>  
> 
> _**Very funny.** _
> 
>  
> 
> _We should meet up as soon as you come back mum!_
> 
>  
> 
> _**Oh sweetie you have so much to study! I don't want you to fail any of your exams, I know how hard it can be.** _
> 
>  
> 
> _Mum it's ok, I can take a couple of days off, nothing bad is going to happen._
> 
>  
> 
> **She is one of the best students in her class anyway Abby. Like mother like daughter right?**
> 
>  
> 
> _**Yeah... I don't know. We could come visit you, that would be easier for you.** _
> 
>  
> 
> _No, I want to come back home mum. It's official then, let me know when you will be back home and I will do the rest, ok?_
> 
>  
> 
> _**If you're really sure about this, ok honey.** _
> 
>  
> 
> **Isn't it good to be the only one that actually stays home all the time? Like, I have no planes to take, no dates to check, no exams to give, no running away without leaving a single hint to where the hell I am going...**
> 
>  
> 
> _**Ok, ok, I already apologized! I'm sorry!** _
> 
>  
> 
> _It will never be enough mum, you should know that by now!_
> 
>  
> 
> **You owe me big time Abby.**
> 
>  
> 
> _I agree._

 

 

Abby's smile faded. They were joking yes, but she knew she had scared the both of them. She had done something extremely reckless and stupid. She could have just said _“I'm gonna go here, you can find me at this address, don't worry, I'll be fine.”_

 

 

_Why haven't you?_

 

Because it had been impulsive, because she hadn't been thinking, she had simply started driving, feeling this incredible rush pushing her toward her old hometown, where this old and very angry friend lived.

 

She had been stupid. But she couldn't go back in time, once again she had made her decision, and had to live with the consequences. It could be her daughter and Raven yelling at her to never do that again. Or it could be an old friend that almost couldn't look her straight in the eyes for more than a couple of seconds.

 

Actions have consequences. And you gotta learn how to take responsibility for the choices you make.

 

 

 

 

 

 

> _Are you still there mum?_
> 
>  
> 
> **We were just joking around!**
> 
>  
> 
> _**I'm here!** _
> 
>  
> 
> **Everything's fine?**
> 
>  
> 
> _You're good mum?_
> 
>  
> 
> _**Yeah, I'm just really sorry. I shouldn't be here, I should be home.** _
> 
>  
> 
> **Then come back.**
> 
>  
> 
> _Mum, you did what you did for a reason. You do some reckless stuff sometimes, but never without a reason. You know that._

 

Abby smiled softly, sometimes she forgot that her daughter knew her better than herself. Raven always felt out of place around them when things like this one happened. Seeing the chemistry between them and the balance they had built over the years, it made her feel like she was intruding into a life that didn't belong to her. It wasn't as if they wanted to shut her off, it simply came natural to them to act like that around each other. They were mother and daughter after all, it was in their blood. But this didn't mean that Raven wasn't part of the family, and she knew that.

 

 

 

 

 

 

> _**You're right. I came here for a reason.** _
> 
>  
> 
> **Then do whatever it is that you gotta do, and then come back home. Please.**
> 
>  

 

Abby smiled, picturing the worried frown engraved on Raven's forehead. The girl could be sassy, hard to handle sometimes, and always with something more to say than necessary about everything... But she cared deeply for the both of them, and she had found in them the family she had never been blessed with.

 

After Jake's death she had simply stepped into their life, and _ironically_ it had been because of a car.

 

* * *

 

Abby's Tesla had left her in the middle of an empty street late at night, she had started panicking, Clarke was home alone, she was sick, Jake had died a couple of months before and she had been sick for the most of the time since then.

 

Raven was the one in charge of the night emergencies calls. When she picked up the phone, Abby was already in the middle of a panic attack.

 

“ _Car Service. I'm Raven how can-”_

 

“My car isn't working! I'm in the middle of the street, it's pitch black here, there's not even a single damn house for miles! I need help _now_ ! I don't care how much I'll have to pay, you gotta come here immediately and help me! I need you here _now_!” Abby was pacing the street fiercely, she wasn't breathing properly, her cheeks red, her heart hammering in her chest. Her mind kept flashing her images of Jake's crashed car and her daughter, curled up in a ball in her bed, the fever high, her sweaty blonde hair plastered on her forehead.

 

_Why did I have to buy groceries now? Couldn't it wait till tomorrow?_

 

“ _Ok ma'am calm down!_ ” Raven shouted from the other line, already cursing her decision to take the night shift. People could be really dumb when it came down to cars. “ _I can't help you if you keep yelling like this!_ ”

 

“Yeah well _sorry_ but I'm slightly freaking out, I need to get back home _now_!” Abby was panting hard, her hands shaking. She could recognize all the symptoms of an incoming breakdown, she had had several of them during the past two months. But she couldn't freak out, she had to stay lucid to get someone there to help her and go back home to Clarke.

 

“ _That's why I'm telling you to calm down. You gotta give me your name and insurance number, otherwise I can't help you ma'am.”_ Raven said, rolling her eyes and sighing out when the woman at the other line started cursing under her breath.

 

“I'm Abigail Griffin, and I have no idea what my insurance number is! I need help, please!” tears were prickling at her eyes, her heart was beating fast and rapidly in her chest, making it hard to breath.

 

“ _Ok, once again, you should calm down. I mean things like these happen all the time right? Cars can be annoying sometimes, especially if you don't do all the checks up, or if you treat them badly...”_ \- She was already checking in her computer for someone called Abigail Griffin, but under the name Griffin no Abigail popped up. She frowned but kept talking, trying to keep the woman distracted from what looked like a panic attack. She had had few of those in the past, and knew they were hard to handle - “ _With this of course I am not assuming you don't know how to take care of your car. I'm just saying that sometimes also mechanics can't do their job, and trust me I know what I'm talking about!”_ She said eventually, roaming her eyes over the three names that the search had provided her with.

 

“I... what?” Abby was confused, but her heart had suddenly slowed down its pace, and she had stopped circling on herself, her breathing was again at a normal rate.

 

“ _Ok ma'am I'm sorry to inform you that there's no Abigail Griffin in our archives. I have three Griffins though. Is it maybe a relative? Maybe a brother? Father? Husband?”_ Raven couldn't' possibly know that her next word was gonna make the woman at the other end of the line break even more.

 

“Hus-” Abby closed her eyes and swallowed deeply. _It was Jake._ He was the one that had taken care of the car and the insurance policy, it was named after _him_ not her. “J-Jake.” She said, her voice cracking under the sound of his name, it was hard to say it, they _never_ said it out loud.

 

“ _Jake as in Jake Griffin? Is that it?”_ Raven was opening the file with all the information she needed. “ _A silver Tesla am I right?”_ she kept saying, while connecting her computer with the tracking device the car was provided with. Then was when she saw another file attached at the same name. Another car that wasn't in their archives anymore, due to an accident. She remembered that one, it had been awful and the driver hadn't survived...

 

_Oh._

 

“Yes.” Abby said quietly, her head was aching, her blood was boiling in her veins. She needed to sit down or she was going to collapse.

 

“ _Ok ma'am, I see where you are, I'm gonna be there in fifteen minutes, how does that sound?_ ” She said, while standing up from her chair and walking rapidly toward her black jeep.

 

“What? Fifteen minutes? Yeah, how-” but the girl at the other line of the phone didn't let her finish.

 

“ _Your GPS ma'am. You have one remember? Wait for me, I'm gonna be there as soon as possible.”_ and with that she ended the phone call.

 

Fourteen minutes later she was parking at the other side of the road.

 

As soon as she saw her, Abby withdrew from her car, she had been leaning against it the whole time, too shaken up to stay inside of the vehicle. Raven jumped off her jeep and flashed her one of her best smiles.

 

“Raven Reyes ma'am, let's see what's wrong here ok?”

 

Half an hour later, and a lot of polite conversation the girl forced herself to do, in order to keep the woman at her side as calm as possible, she was done, and the car roared to life again. Abby insisted to pay her in cash, but the girl affirmed it was all part of the insurance policy she had, everything was covered and she didn't need to give her anything else.

 

“Let me at least pay for the fuel!” Abby was stubbornly trying to shove the money into the girl's hand, but she was insisting on refusing them.

 

“I told you, it's covered. There's no need ma'am.” She said, shrugging, smiling kindly.

 

“Ok consider it a tip then!” Abby said, approaching her, invading her personal space, but Raven took a step backward and raised her hand in front of her.

 

“Can't accept that. It's kind from you really, but there's no need!” she said, then wished her a goodnight and climbed in her jeep before Abby could protest any further.

 

When a week later Raven found a white envelope on her desk, her name written on it, she frowned and asked around who was it from. They said it came from one of their clients, saying she had insisted to let it on her desk herself, making it clear that _nobody_ could touch it apart from _the cute girl named Raven_.

 

When she opened it, a bunch of money fell from it, along with a note.

 

 

 

 

 

 

> _I know you said no tips. But you literally saved me the other night. It's the least I can do._
> 
>  
> 
> _Please accept the money, you deserve them._
> 
>  
> 
> _With a lot of gratitude,_
> 
> _Abby Griffin_
> 
>  
> 
>  

Raven was incredulous, that woman had left her a tip of one hundred bucks and a personal note to thank her. It took her a couple of days to find the courage to take her address from their archives and found her place.

 

When she showed up at her door, the woman immediately started apologizing for her behavior, saying she had felt like it was the right thing to do. But when Raven surprised the both of them, approaching her and hugging her strongly, whispering a series of _Thank you_ s in her hair, Abby had fell quiet, and had hugged her back.

 

The rest was history.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

> **Be sure to eat, drink enough water and sleep!**
> 
>  
> 
> _**Who's the doctor between us?** _
> 
>  
> 
> **The real question here is: who's the actual adult between us?**
> 
>  
> 
> _She has a point._
> 
>  
> 
> _**Ok girls, that's it for today!** _
> 
>  
> 
> _Yeah, I need to get back to my anatomy book anyway. Make sure to call before bed ok?_
> 
>  
> 
> **You should do like me Clarke!**
> 
>  
> 
> _And that would be?_
> 
>  
> 
> **Call her yourself, until she picks up, then yell at her because she took too long to answer.**
> 
>  
> 
> _**She actually does that a lot.** _
> 
>  
> 
> _I think I will try that later, you've been warned mum!_
> 
>  
> 
> **Better keep your phone with you Abby!**
> 
>  
> 
> _**Oh I know that by now!** _
> 
>  
> 
> _Ok, time to go back to my duties, love you both. Talk to you later girls!_
> 
>  
> 
> _**Be good honey, don't stress yourself too much!** _
> 
>  
> 
> **I'm off too, talk to you later ladies. Be good Abby, and don't do anything stupid... again!**
> 
>  
> 
> _**I'll do my best, have a nice day girls, love you both!** _
> 
>  
> 
> _Love you!_
> 
>  
> 
> **Whatever, to the both of you!**

 

Abby smiled with herself and bit at her lower lip. _Yes,_ she definitely missed her girls.

 

 

….

 

 

He couldn't say why on earth was he sitting on his bed with that box in hands. He hadn't touched it in years. A heavy veil of dust was an evident proof of that. Everything held inside of that box was a memory from a past he had worked hard to erase from his mind, or at least had tried to bury it down within himself.

 

But apparently, it took just a single pair of brown eyes to bring everything up again, to wake up dormant feelings he had tried hard to let be quiet and hidden.

 

 _Don't do this._ His mind was loud and stubborn, but his heart wasn't listening.

 

He opened the box with trembling hands, a puff of dust fell over his lap and his black blankets. He blinked it away and held his breath. A pile of pictures was the first thing he saw, they were all facing down, as if like that he couldn't say what was on them.

 

He remembered them all, not just because he had taken the most of all, but because they belonged to a time he couldn't quiet forget about.

 

He sniffed, and took the first picture with shivering fingers. His heart was already hammering in his chest, afraid of the reaction that picture could cause him, bracing itself for the blow of pain it would cause.

 

But when he turned it, all that he could feel was a terrible amount of longing exploding in his heart, expanding in his system.

 

It was the last picture Marcus had taken of Abby, when her last name was still Walters and she was twenty years younger. Her hair a little bit shorter than now, soft curls framing her face, tickling her bare shoulders. She wasn't smiling brightly as her usual, on the contrary, her lips were slightly curved upright with just the hint of a smirk.

 

She was standing on his porch, the sun was shining behind her, bathing her in this glowing halo, the same one that always appeared around her in his dreams. She was looking directly at him through the camera lens, her eyes steady, colored in that same rich brown he had tried so hard to forget.

 

Her left hand was resting over his mother's shoulder. It had been her the one to ask for that picture. Abby had come that day to inform them she was leaving, that she had to move to Boston to study, she had waited long enough. Vera had always liked her and Jake, and had asked her son to take one last picture, _until we will meet again_.

 

Unfortunately Vera Kane had died three years ago, and had never had the chance to see Abby nor Jake ever again.

 

In that picture though, in that moment he had stolen from time, they were still together. Abby's hand resting softly over her shoulder, Vera's fingers grazing at hers, her smile soft, her eyes gentle as always. Abby's look steady on him, at her side stood Jake, tall and protective. His blonde hair were glowing as well into the afternoon light, his blue eyes were bright, and his smile was big and welcoming.

 

The detail Marcus had noticed just when they had already left, was the one his eyes immediately landed on. Between Abby's dress and Jake's black jeans, their hands were joined. A soft touch, fingers intertwined together ever so gently, a gesture that meant _belonging._

 

Abby was holding Jake's hand with love, and was looking at Marcus with a terrible sadness, a sadness she was trying to defuse with the quick smirk she was forcing over her lips, while her other hand was softly stroking Vera's shoulder, as a silent goodbye.

 

The last picture of his two best friends and his mother, the three most important people in his life back then, was heartbreaking to watch, and yet it was also the one he had looked at for the most of the time. He had kept it clean and had protected it from light and dust, but his fingers had stroked their figures so many times, that it was consumed in many spots.

 

He inhaled deeply, sharing another look with that old version of Abby he couldn't quiet let go off, and then was when his eyes landed over her dress.

 

_Her dress._

 

It was light, colored in a soft tone of white, it covered her till the knees, and had lace over her chest and shoulders. Then was when he recognized it, that dress was the one he had bought for her in Paris, he had always been so focused on her look and the other details... that he hadn't lingered over the fact that she was wearing the dress he had bought for her.

 

A white summer dress she had loved so much, a white summer dress just like...

 

...just like the one she was wearing today.

 

The picture fell from his hands, and fell in the pile with all of the others. Tears started prickling at his eyes, and he let them out, in the silence of his room, he let it out all, all of what he had kept bottled up since he had came back home.

 

….

 

It was when she found herself brushing her hair in front of the mirror, careful to smooth every knot the wind had created, that the thought hit her.

 

“ _I saw it and couldn't not buy it!”_ Marcus' younger voice echoed in her mind.

 

“ _It looks perfect on you!”_ Niylah soft tone shivered in her ears.

 

She blinked, and her hands froze midair, the brush shivering upon her curls.

 

_I bought a dress that looks just like the one from Paris._

 

She lowered her brush over the sink. Her throat suddenly constricted.

 

_I bought a dress that looks just like the one he gave me._

 

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Her head was spinning slightly.

 

 _Why?_ She asked to her reflection. _How could you not remember?_ She bit at her lower lip.

 

How ironic for her mind to trick her like that. Making her stop right in front of a store that _conveniently_ sold a white dress that looked just like the last gift Marcus had gave her. She didn't know _what_ to blame for it, her subconscious for tricking her into this stupid choice? Fate for playing with her like she was some kind of broken puppet?

 

Then again, wasn't it extremely convenient for her mind to recall such a detail when the damage had already been done?

 

 _Maybe Marcus didn't recognize it!_ She told herself.

 

 _Possible._ She raised an eyebrow toward herself. _But unlikely to be true._

 

He was definitely gonna remember. _And he will think you did it on purpose._

 

Well that was just _great_.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So glad you are reading this, just wanted to let you know that I am grateful for all your comments, I really am!


	5. Fresh Fruit & Phone Calls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She had seen Marcus three days ago at the dock house, and had waited for him to call or reach out for her since then. But he hadn't called, nor texted, nothing.

 

“ _I'm just saying that it's Friday, tomorrow it's Saturday, and then there's Sunday!”_ Raven was mumbling over her breakfast, probably a piece of perfectly toasted bread with way too much butter spread all over it.

 

“Yeah I'm aware of that Raven.” Abby giggled softly, while taking a bright green apple from one of the stall in the market Arkadia still held on every Friday.

 

“ _Yeah well this means you gotta come back. I mean what the hell are you still doing there anyway?”_ she snorted, while sipping at what was probably very dark and very strong coffee.

 

“Right now I'm picking up some fresh fruit for breakfast.” she said, smiling to the woman that was giving her a bag of apples she had just paid for.

 

“ _You are picking up what?”_ Raven asked, her words muffled by a piece of toast she didn't seem able to chew and swallow before talking.

 

_The nerve of this girl._

 

“Fruit Raven. Ever heard about it? Healthy fresh food, in the specific I picked green apples, juicy and slightly acrid, not to sweet and completely natural. You know anything about that?” Abby said, while roaming her eyes over the incredible amount of fresh fruit and vegetables the market offered.

 

“ _Very funny. Aren't you staying at a hotel anyway? You are paying right? Don't do they serve breakfast there?”_ Raven asked, this time her mouth was luckily empty.

 

“Yeah I do pay, and yes they do serve breakfast.” Abby said, smiling to a kid that ran past her, followed by another one, probably his little brother, they had the same black hair and matching deep blue shirts.

 

“ _Yeah well why the hell are you buying other food then? You should be more caref ul with your money you know? Is not good to spoil yourself this much.”_ Raven said, and Abby could picture her shaking her head, her typical ponytail bouncing over her shoulders.

 

“First of all, I do whatever I want with my money. Second of all, I don't know if fresh fruit is considerable as _spoiling_ , but once again.... I do whatever I want.” Abby stated, smirking to herself when the girl let out a heavy snort.

 

“ _You are a terrible terrible adult Abby. Sometimes I wonder how the hell did you manage to raise such a cool kid as Clarke, seriously it's impressive.”_ the young mechanic said, chuckling with herself when Abby huffed.

 

“The kid you're talking about is just one year younger than you.” - she sniffed at some purple flowers that a girl was holding out to sell - “But she is _cool_ indeed.” she said, nodding to herself.

 

“ _The point here is that you should adult a little bit more. Seriously though, when are you coming back? I'm kinda feeling lonely.”_ at that Abby stopped in her tracks and smiled softly to her phone.

 

“Oh honey, I miss you too.” she said, already bracing herself for whatever sassy comment the girl was going to throw her way.

 

“ _Yeah...”_ \- she sighed out - “ _I mean, it's not like I don't like pizza or Chinese food, but I miss your cooking Abby, please come home, my stomach and I are missing you badly.”_ and here she was again.

 

“Fresh fruit and vegetables Raven, that's what you gotta eat more if you want to survive without my cooking.” Abby said, inhaling deeply when the scent of fresh baked bread reached her.

 

“ _Yeah yeah whatever. Can you stop being all doctor mood and start packing to come back?”_ Raven said, the sound of traffic suddenly surrounding her, she was heading to her garage, ready to start a new day.

 

“I'll be back soon honey, I promise. I just need to fix up few things, then I'll cook you your favorite meal, it's a promise.” Abby said.

 

“ _You better keep your promise then, and make it quick, ok?”_ Raven said, excusing herself with someone that was getting on her way.

 

“Yes honey I promise, now try not to-” but her words died in her throat, when her eyes landed over a tall figure she could recognize everywhere, even after all this time.

 

“ _Abby? You good?”_ Raven asked, right when Marcus looked up from his bag of fruit, and stopped in his tracks, the smile he had on his lips few seconds before faded, and his black eyes darkened.

 

“ _Abby?”_ Raven was still trying to get her attention back, but then his daughter Octavia had appeared at Marcus' side, and was now glaring at her, her lips pursed and her chin raised.

 

“Uhm, Raven honey, I gotta call you back.” she said, without waiting for the girl to answer back.

 

_She was gonna pay for that later._

 

“Hi.” she said out of instinct, shoving her phone in the back pocket of her new capri pants.

 

She had put the white dress away, and had bought a couple of different things form Niylah's store, careful not to pick anything that could recall memories she didn't want to bring back to life.

 

Marcus was silent, looking at her with hollow eyes. Octavia at his side was now sneaking her arm under his, raising a furious eyebrow at her. “Let's go Dad, we need to buy some more stuff before Bell arrives.” she said, flashing Abby a burning glare, before pulling Marcus with her, forcing him to turn.

 

He didn't protest, he didn't say anything at all, he simply followed his daughter in the crowd around them, and disappeared. Abby pursed her lips and sighed out.

 

_It didn't went that bad._

 

She resumed her walk, careful to watch out for the both of them. She had seen Marcus three days ago at the dock house, and had waited for him to call or reach out for her since then. But he hadn't called, nor texted, nothing.

 

She knew she deserved it. After all she had been gone for twenty years, and had done the same to him. But she still thought her reasons to be different from his. Furthermore, she had been twenty years old back then, now she was a grown woman, in her forties, he was an adult too.

 

They could act differently, and they could learn from their mistakes.

 

Apparently though, she seemed to be the only one thinking that.

 

 ….

 

 

“Are we ever gonna talk about it?” Octavia asked, when they had walked their way out of the crowd, and had started scanning the window of every store, without a real purpose. They had everything they needed for the dinner they were going to welcome Bell with tonight.

 

He had advanced his return of an entire week when Octavia had informed him about Marcus' conditions. She was worried, that woman had showed up and suddenly he was acting all weird, hiding himself in his room for hours, she had even heard him crying under the shower. He had also woken up in the middle of the night multiple times, mumbling some incomprehensible words to invisible ghosts.

 

What pained her the most, was that he was acting like nothing was happening. Avoiding her questions, saying he was perfectly fine.

 

_And yet he wasn't._

 

_And he knew he wasn't._

 

What had just happened for example. That Abby had appeared and he had stopped walking, had fell silent and his smile had faded. He had just stared at her, with such hollow dark eyes, it scared her the way this stranger seemed able to get under his skin. She had smiled at him, but Marcus had turned into cold stone, _again._

 

Octavia didn't know exactly what had pushed her to take him by the arm and pull him away from her, if it was the look on his face, the sad smile on hers, or simply the annoying feeling she had whenever that woman appeared. But he hadn't protested, instead he had followed her, without saying a word, and she had managed to leave that woman behind them.

 

Luckily for them she hadn't followed.

 

“Earth to Marcus?” she pinched him in the side, when he didn't answer her question.

 

_It was becoming a habit._

 

“What?” he muttered, his eyes fixed on the sidewalk, he was gone once again, hiding in his private bubble, lost into what kind of thoughts, he only knew.

 

It was getting under her skin, making her feel useless, and it was also hurting her. They had always shared everything, since she had entered his life, Marcus had always told her to be open with him, honest, always sharing any kind of trouble.

 

Then why wasn't he following his own advice now? Why she had to be that open and honest, and he all of a sudden he was keeping it all for himself? She didn't like it, not even a bit.

 

“Who is that woman, dad?” she asked him, trying to find a way through him, using dad instead of his name often did the trick. This time didn't seem to work though.

 

“I told you. An old friend.” he muttered, without bothering to look her in the eyes.

 

“Yeah right.” she hissed, her hand squeezing his arm, she was still holding him close, afraid he could slip away from her even physically. “Then, can you tell me what went wrong between the two of you? What happened?” she asked, not afraid to try again, to push a little harder.

 

She was stubborn, he knew that. She wasn't gonna let it drop, she had waited long enough, it was time for the adult to act like one.

 

“Nothing happened. Just time.” he mumbled. That was a thing he had said over and over again in the past three days. If his answer wasn't _nothing_ then it would have been _time_.

 

_It didn't explain a damn thing though._

 

“What happened then during this time? Why did she show up all of a sudden? What made her come back? Why are you reacting like this? What-”

 

“Enough!” he yelled, forcing her to stop abruptly, her mouth slightly open, her green eyes blinking in confusion. Few people around them turned to look at this man who had just yelled in the middle of an open market.

 

_Embarrassing, unnecessary and extremely painful._

 

“Enough.” he said again, lowering his tone, his yell turning into a deep hiss. Octavia closed her mouth shut then and bit at her tongue, swallowing her next words.

 

If he wasn't gonna play it like that, she would follow suit... but not here. She was discreet, and was gonna solve this in the privacy of their house.

 

_Wait for it._

 

….

 

_It's not Octavia's fault._

 

_She is confused, she deserves an explanation._

 

Marcus knew very well that he was shutting her off, keeping his worries for himself, not sharing a damn truth about Abby and him. But how was he supposed to do that? When he wasn't even able to let out those truths with himself?

 

The thing here though, was that he was hurting his daughter. He could see it in the way she looked at him and talked to him, with concern and care, trying to reach out for him, and whenever he pushed her away a little further, the look on her face felt like a burning knife twisting in his heart.

 

_It's not fair._

 

He wanted to be honest and open with her, he really wanted to share his doubts and fears. But he didn't want to talk about her. Talking about Abby meant acknowledging her presence there, and he couldn't do that.

 

Abby was still in Arkadia, and he didn't know how to process that information. He had thought she was going to leave, again. It had been easy for her to do it twenty years ago, so why now it had to be that different?

 

 _Because Jake had died._ He didn't know if that was the only thing that had pushed her to come back and stay. _She is feeling lonely._ She had a daughter, she surely had friends back home, why she needed him of all people? _She wanted to see you again. She needed you._ This was confusing him terribly.

 

And his mind had started to work hard around the memory of her, and she had started to invade his sleep once again.

 

He dreamed of her, _oh he dreamed of her vividly_. Images of her looking at him with glassy eyes, the sound of her voice talking to him and apologizing over and over again. His mind hadn't stopped flashing him images of her since that day on the lake, three days ago.

 

Three days he had hoped would be enough for her to pack up her things and leave.

 

But she was stubborn, and was still there. _How long is she gonna wait?_ He had waited for so long for her, _was she gonna wait that long as well for him?_

 

_You can't wait that much. She will probably not wait that much._

 

Truth was that he desperately wanted to be strong enough to simply shut her off, to erase her memory once again, and let her disappear from his life. But she was back, and didn't seem in any hurry to leave.

 

_Doesn't she have things to do? Isn't she a surgeon? She should be working. She has a daughter, doesn't she need her mother?_

 

Questions were all he had, questions he wanted to ask her. _Again._ This time though, she was close enough to answer, she was ready to give him the answers he wanted to get so desperately. The thing was that he wasn't strong enough to ask for any of them.

 

He was afraid to meet her again, because this time he knew it would be too hard for him to simply let go. He had done that and it had broke him. He thought he had moved on, he had been wrong.

 

_You will never move on._

 

That was why he couldn't talk about her with Octavia. If she knew all the story, then Abby was going to turn from the ghost of the past she had been all this time, to an actual presence in his life.

 

That couldn't happen, not again.

 

“I hope you realize that it was extremely _unnecessary_ to act like that.” Octavia snorted as soon as they had entered the house. She had kept quiet since he had yelled at her. He felt so sorry for it.

 

“I don't care what's wrong with this woman and you. I don't care how messed up this thing is! You have no right to treat me like that!” her cheeks were the color of summer cherries, her eyes were flaming with fury, a fury that grew out of _pain_.

 

“I'm so-”

 

“No!” she yelled, dismissing his attempt at apologizing. “Stop saying that you're sorry and start explaining to me what the hell is going on here!” her index finger raised angrily at him, her green eyes were steady, her chin raised. “Now.” she growled, crossing her arms and standing in front of him, waiting.

 

_She isn't gonna let it drop._

 

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He tried again, “I...” he felt the way his words were growing and dying immediately after on the tip of his tongue. He knew what he had to say, he wanted to tell her simply the truth, but all of a sudden he wasn't able to find the words.

 

All of a sudden he wasn't able to tell Octavia who Abby was, who she had been, what she had done. Because he could tell himself dozens of lies, saying that she was his childhood best friend. His schoolmate. Just his neighbor.

 

He could say that Abby Walters had been just someone he had been friend with a long time ago, and that had suddenly disappeared and that was it.

 

 _Yes,_ to himself he could tell that. But to Octavia... he couldn't lie. That was the problem. He couldn't hide behind a bunch of lies, because the way she was looking at him, the worry trembling in her voice, all was demanding him to be honest, to say the truth. That truth he didn't know how to explain.

 

“She was my best friend.” he finally whispered, Octavia didn't even flinch. He swallowed and lowered the grocery bags on the kitchen island. “She was my best friend and... she left.” he knew that this wasn't what she wanted to hear. She wanted _more,_ she wanted _all._

 

“We met when I was eight years old, and she was six.” he started to say, while taking the fresh fruit out from the bags, busying his hands with something, _maybe_ could help his mind run freely over that path filled with memories he hadn't been able to recall without breaking, for so long.

 

 

_**August 25, 1984** _

 

 

 

“You shouldn't stand that close to the water, it's dangerous!” Marcus said sternly, his arms crossed.

 

He was _angry._ He had waited all week to come to his favorite place, where he could be alone with himself and the silent lake. It was a peaceful place, he loved to ride his bike till here, it was a long way from his house, and his mother didn't like it when he staid out that much, but she trusted him enough to let him go once a week anyway. And all of a sudden there was this _baby_ invading his private spot.

 

She was younger than him, he could tell, not only because she was _way_ shorter than him, but because she still looked like a kid. He was a _boy_ already, she wasn't even definable as a _girl_.

 

“Mum said I could stay here.” she said, without even bothering to turn and look at him. Marcus frowned. There wasn't a single adult around them, who was she talking about?

 

“I don't see any grown ups here.” _except for me_ he wanted to add, but restrained himself.

 

“They are over there.” the kid said, stretching her arm toward a red car, parked under a Oak tree on the hill just above them.

 

“Well this is _my_ place. You have to go.” he said coldly. He wanted her to simply go away and leave his place _now_.

 

Then was when she turned and her almond eyes settled on him. “That's a lie.” she said, raising a doubtful eyebrow, squeezing her eyes.

 

_Was she glaring at him? She was nobody to glare at him like that._

 

“This is _my_ place. Go away.” he said again, clenching his fists, taking a step forward, trying to scare her away. She was smaller and younger, and was a _girl,_ she wasn't gonna stand up to him. Not a chance.

 

“This is a lake. It's not yours _dummy_.” she chuckled and shook her head, standing up and turning completely toward him. She was wearing a peachy colored dress, and had long brown hair with whispers of gold that the sun was highlighting. “I'm not going. Mum said I could stay.” she tilted her head and put her hands over the hips.

 

_Seriously?_

 

“Get lost. Now.” he said, this time taking several steps toward her, casting his shadow over her. She raised her chin even higher, fixing her brown eyes into his. She seemed perfectly comfortable were she was.

 

“No.” she said back, raising a challenging eyebrow. Marcus clenched his jaw and felt a rush of pure anger boiling up in his blood.

 

“Go. Now.” he hissed, taking a final step, they were so close now that he could push her into the lake if he wanted to. But he wasn't that kind of boy.

 

“I said no.” she said, her frown deepening, her lips pursing into an angry pout. Marcus blinked, he couldn't believe it.

 

This _toddler_ was standing up to him, and was ignoring his request as if she had any kind of right over _his_ place.

 

_Unbelievable._

 

He started filling his lungs with new oxygen, preparing himself to yell at her to get lost again, when the little girl's eyes got caught by a movement at his back.

 

“Abby? _Tesoro?_ Let's go!” a woman suddenly said. The kid glared at him one last time, before walking away. Right when she had intertwined her hand with the woman, her mother probably, she turned and pocked out her tongue at him, before smirking and following the older woman up the hill.

 

Marcus was left speechless and incredulous on the bouncing pier, the silent lake gurgling under him.

 

_What the hell had just happened?_

… _._

 

A week later, he spotted her in the hallway out of his class, walking with a bunch of books in her arms, and a giant backup on her shoulders. He stopped dead in his tracks and widened his eyes, she blinked in his direction and after few seconds recognized him.

 

To his surprise she simply smirked and walked past him, her eyes never leaving him, until she disappeared inside of the classroom at his back.

 

_Oh great, she obviously had to go in his same school. It was going to be a long long year._

 

He couldn't even imagine that in less than a month, she was going to show up at his door in search of her ball, that she had threw too high over the fence and that was now lost somewhere in his mother's lilac Gardenias.

 

When he found out that she was member of the family that had just moved next door, he started thinking that maybe his mother was right. There was some kind of God up there, and he or she was currently having a lot of fun messing up with his life.

 

_Great._

 

_**September 23, 1984** _

 

 

“Abby _amore,_ could you please pick some rosemary from the backyard?” Mrs. Walters said from the open window of her kitchen. She was cooking something that smelled extremely good, Marcus had to admit it.

 

He was on his porch, arms leaned over the wooden rail, his dark eyes were observing his new neighbor, while she was playing with a doll. She was pretending to be a doctor, using a fake stethoscope to listen to the nonexistent heart of that inanimate object.

 

“Ok!” Abby said back, lowering her doll on the grass and standing up, wiping away some dirt from her light blue dress. She headed to her backyard, and then spotted him watching her. She stopped and raised a curious eyebrow. “What?” she asked, tilting her head, approaching the fence that separated their two gardens.

 

“What?” he said back, shrugging, as if she hadn't just caught him staring.

 

_Embarrassing._

 

“ _Whatcha lookin at_?” She asked, propping herself over the white fence, her brown eyes shimmering with curiosity and amusement. Marcus pursed his lips.

 

“Nothing.” he said sternly, and she smirked, that same smirk she had flashed him that day on the lake.

 

_Infuriating._

 

“Sure.” she said, nodding to herself and giggling quietly, hopping off the fence once again and resuming her walk toward the bush of rosemary. She picked up a stem and inhaled deeply into its scent, then smiled to herself, walking toward the kitchen window. “ _Mamma?”_ she waved the herb over her head, and suddenly Mrs. Walters appeared, smiling and taking it in her hand.

 

“ _Grazie_ Abby. Fifteen minutes and dinner it's ready, be sure to wash your hands ok?” the woman said, flashing her daughter a warm smile when she nodded and started running back over her doll. “Oh hi Marcus.” Mrs Walter added, when she spotted him on his porch. Marcus blinked and waved a polite hand toward her.

 

“Hello Mrs. Walters.” he said, managing to print a smile over his lips. The woman smiled, she had the same almond eyes Abby had, colored in the same chocolate brown, and they had also the same smirking smile. _Oh_ and the both of them were _really really short._

 

Well Abby was still little, she could grow taller than her mother, but Marcus highly doubted that would ever happen.

 

“You can call me Elena sweetheart, no reason to be this formal.” Abby's mother said, smiling fondly and retreating back in the kitchen. “Fifteen minutes Abby!” she said again, before busying herself with something in the oven.

 

“What kind of name is that?” Marcus muttered to himself, not realizing that Abby could hear him, until she snorted.

 

“It's Italian you _dillweed.”_ she said, shaking her head, while collecting her doll from the ground.

 

“You said what?” Marcus growled, his fists clenching at his sides.

 

_Why was she always able to make him snap with just a word? The nerve of this kid._

 

“You heard me.. _dillweed.”_ she giggled heartily when Marcus clenched his jaw fiercely and flashed her a burning glare. She didn't seem to be affected by him, not even a bit.

 

_I hate you._

 

“You take that back.” he hissed. Abby raised her eyebrows and smirked deeply.

 

“Not a chance.” she said, shrugging and turning on her heels, jumping on her porch and pocking out her tongue at him, before sneaking inside of her house.

 

_Oh you'll pay for that, you little insufferable you!_

 

 

_**October 2, 1984** _

 

 

“Wanna go and play outside?” Jake asked him, looking up from his math book. Marcus was so focused on his homework that it took him few seconds to get that his best friend was talking to him.

 

“What?” he said, chewing the tip of his pen.

 

“Wanna go out and play?” he asked again, closing his book. He had as always finished before him, and was now boring himself to death. Marcus though had still to complete a couple of divisions.

 

“I still need to finish this.” he muttered, frowning to the hardest one. Jake raised an eyebrow.

 

“Want me to do it?” he asked, stretching his muscles and yawning.

 

“No.” Marcus growled proudly. He wasn't gonna make him finish his homework, not _again_.

 

“Well, I go outside and wait for you then.” he said, without waiting for his approval, taking his ball from his backpack and storming outside. Marcus hummed but didn't advert his gaze from his book.

 

Ten minutes later he was still finishing his last division, when from his backyard he heard Jake talking and laughing, then another voice joined his, a shrill and _annoying_ voice he would recognize everywhere.

 

_Oh no._

 

He stormed outside, his homework could be _damned_. He had to stop whatever was going on there before it was late.

 

As soon as he had reached his best friend though, he saw with _horror_ that he was talking happily with _Abby_ and she was holding _his_ white ball under her arm.

 

“Ok, it's my turn now!” she yelled joyfully, Jake nodded and took few steps back. Then Abby giggled and threw the ball as high as her little arms allowed her to, and Jake jumped to his side to get it before it landed on the grass.

 

“Too slow!” he chuckled and Abby giggled, gesturing at him to throw it back.

 

“Again!” she clasped her hands and prepared herself. Jake raised a doubtful eyebrow at her, but Abby was smiling at him with a challenge shimmering in her eyes. He shook his head then and threw the ball, he had longer arms and was stronger than her, so the ball flew high over the fence and even the trees, and Abby started blinking, calculating its trajectory.

 

“I got it, I got it.” she mumbled, running backward, the ball started descending rapidly, and Abby stretched her arms to the sky, her eyes never leaving it. Then was when she crashed right against her father, forcing him to fall back flat on the ground, a heavy huff leaving his lungs.

 

“Abby!” he snorted, the ball falling few feet from them, bouncing away.

 

“Sorry dad!” Abby giggled, turning and facing him, he huffed and tried to push her off of him.

 

“When did you turn this heavy?” he joked, starting to tickle her on the sides. Abby giggled.

 

“I'm light as a leaf!” she started laughing louder, when her father's hand sneaked under her neck, forcing her to squirm on his stomach, shielding her sensitive skin from his touch.

 

“Sorry sir!” Jake said suddenly, approaching the fence, he was tall enough and didn't need to prop himself over it as Abby had to if she wanted to peek at Marcus' garden.

 

_And she did that a lot. So annoying!_

 

“It's ok kiddo.” Mr Walters said, gently pushing Abby away from him, standing up and wiping away some dust from his pants. “What's your name boy?” he asked, approaching him.

 

“I'm Jake Griffin sir.” he said, smiling brightly. Abby smirked and approached the two of them.

 

“He's Marcus' best friend.” she said, her eyes peeking at him.

 

_When had she noticed him?_

 

“Oh, I see.” Mr Walters said, smiling at the both of them, stretching his hand to Jake. “Nice to meet you kiddo, I'm George William Walters, the _hurricane's_ father.” he said, chuckling slightly when Abby elbowed him in the side.

 

“Nice to meet you sir.” Jake said, squeezing his hand strongly, his smile never fading. Abby was observing them with a soft smile coloring her lips.

 

_What was happening here?_

 

“So, you two are friends?” Mr Walters asked, Jake looked at Abby with the same question shimmering in his eyes, she smiled fondly.

 

“Yes we are.” she said for him, looking at her father with bright eyes. Jake smirked and nodded.

 

_What the heck was going on?_

 

“Well good to know. Be sure to never mess with her, ok?” Mr Walters said, raising a serious eyebrow. Jake nodded and smiled while Abby rolled her eyes.

 

“Of course sir.” he said, smiling fondly.

 

_What.was.going.on?_

 

“Who wants some fresh watermelon guys?” Mrs Walters said, opening the backyard door with a swing of her hips, slices of bright pink watermelons in hand. Abby's eyes grew three sizes at the sight and she smiled brightly.

 

“I want the bigger one!” she yelled, and then flashed a smile to Jake. “Wanna bet I can finish it faster than you?” she raised a challenging eyebrow and Jake smirked.

 

“I'm in!” he chuckled, withdrawing from the fence and running away, toward Abby's garden.

 

_Wait wait wait, what?_

 

“Come on, let's go!” Jake said, taking him by the hand, forcing him to follow his _absolutely unnecessary_ run toward Abby's house.

 

 _No way. This wasn't happening._ He thought, while following Jake with wide confused eyes. He told himself this was never gonna happen again, when he sat down and Mrs. Walters, _Elena,_ offered him a big slice of fruit, flashing him a warm smile. He took it and tried to ignore the feeling in the tip of his stomach when Abby smiled at him, as if they were friends, as if they knew each other since ever, as if any of this was in anyway _normal._

 

 _Just this time._ He told himself, when Abby started jumping happily on her seat, yelling a series of _I won! I won!_ Her chin covered in juice, her eyes bright, her chuckle loud and clear in Marcus' ears.

 

_It will not happen again._

 

Obviously _it happened again._

 

From that day on, whenever Jake came to visit him, he would always stop and play with Abby, forcing him to do the same. It took them just a couple of weeks to start walking to school together, talking in the hallways whenever they spotted each other, until their duo turned into a trio.

 

It wasn't anymore just Jake and Marcus, it was Jake, Marcus and Abby now.

 

Marcus couldn't say why he hadn't said no when Jake had forced him to join him that day, but even if he still thought Abby was too little and absolutely _insufferable_ , he was also extremely grateful. Because even if they were different and always had something to bicker about, because _there was always something,_ he had also found out how much he liked to spend time with her, how funny she could be and also how welcoming her house and family were with the both of them.

 

The Walters were basically the perfect neighbors, and Marcus was suddenly really happy to have her there.

 

He had two amazing best friends, and he was extremely happy. Life was good and he really believed it was going to go on like this forever. The three of them always together, _best friends forever._

 

Because that was what they were, friends, best friends yes, but _just_ friends.

 

That was what he reminded himself, when Abby turned twelve and started growing out of the _little kid_ and right into the _little miss Walters_ that all of a sudden liked to wear lipstick and had incredibly long hair that he suddenly felt the desire to touch.

 

When she became _officially_ a woman, the spring of her thirteenth birthday, he told himself it was ok to think she looked _cute_ when she was blushing, embarrassed for the thing she had to tell to her two best friends.

 

 _Also,_ _gross._

 

When he turned sixteen, and was starting to get more and more interested in the opposite sex, he told himself there wasn't absolutely nothing bad about the fact that he thought his best friend looked particularly beautiful with that red dress her mother had bought her. She was fourteen anyway, and there wasn't a single reason why he would think of her _like that_.

 

_She was just a kid._

 

The summer of her sixteenth birthday though, when she came back after a trip in Italy that had kept her away for almost two months, he found himself unable to come up with any more excuses.

 

 

_**August 18, 1994** _

 

 

He was sitting on his porch with Jake, they were waiting for the Walters' car to appear at any moment. Abby had kept sending them letters over letters, and even postcards, so they could keep track of where she was, and what she was seeing. She called every two days to catch up on what they had done.

 

She had always some funny story to tell about one of her Italian relative or about some beautiful place she had visited, or even on a different kind of pizza she had tried.

 

_There were so many different types of them it was almost mind blowing._

 

She had kept filling their minds with stories over stories, and they had tried to keep up with her, making up amazing trips in the woods, amazing things they had done, saying they were having a lot of fun, and didn't miss her that much.

 

 _Enough with the bullshit!_ She had said at some point, saying she knew the both of them really well, and knew how _desperate_ they were to have her back.

 

_And wasn't that true?_

 

It was almost _embarrassing_ how badly the two of them missed her. When she informed them that she was coming back in a couple of days, they told themselves it was perfectly normal to count the hours, even the minutes, to the moment she would be back.

 

It was also absolutely normal to wait for her for _hours_ sitting on the porch, jumping whenever the sound of a car reached them.

 

They had been sitting for so long at that point, that their limbs felt heavy, and Marcus' back was hurting, he needed to stretch out his muscles ad relax on something more comfortable than those wooden stairs. “I need a break.” he whispered to Jake, already standing up.

 

“Are those my two favorite buddies?” a cheerful voice he would recognize _everywhere_ suddenly said. He turned so rapidly that for a moment he feared he would break his neck. Jake was already staring at _her,_ standing few feet from them, a bright smile printed on her lips.

 

_Abby was back._

 

And she was _breathtakingly beautiful._

 

Her skin had tanned, it was as if she had taken a bath into melted amber. Her hair was longer, cascading in golden curls over her shoulders, perfectly framing her beautiful face.

 

_Had she always looked this beautiful?_

 

Her eyes were shining with joy, colored into that rich brown Marcus had missed so much, her eyelashes incredibly long, she was watching at the both of them with affection. Her cheeks were colored in a soft tone of pink.

 

She approached them then, biting at her lower lip, suppressing a chuckle. “Guys? It's me, Abby!” she joked, when the both of them had kept staring without saying a word for longer than necessary.

 

Marcus blinked, Jake was gaping at her, they looked like two complete _idiots,_ staring awkwardly at their best friend, while she was trying hard not to blush under their stares. She tilted her head then, and raised a curious eyebrow, her hands on the hips.

 

_Abby was definitely back._

 

Marcus wanted to say something, to go to her, to squeeze her tightly in his arms, until she would be out of breath. But Jake preceded him, smiling brightly at her, opening his arms, inviting her into his embrace. “Abby!” he said happily, and at that she smiled fondly and closed the gap between them, wrapping her long slim arms around him.

 

“Oh damn, I've missed you.” she huffed, squeezing him tight against her, closing her eyes and smiling. “So much!” she whispered again, and then giggled, when Jake started circling her on his feet.

 

Marcus was silent, watching the two of them having that moment. He smiled softly, when she was cheeks flushed and messy hair, trying to regain her balance, when Jake finally put her down. “Oh my, you grew up so much!” he said, his eyes roaming almost _avidly_ over her tiny frame.

 

Abby blushed and bit at her lower lip. “The same can be said to you _big boy,_ you started building up?” she joked, squeezing one of his biceps. Jake smirked and nodded.

 

“This is all natural woman!” he said, drawing a chuckle from her.

 

“Sure it is.” she giggled, then finally turned toward Marcus, her lips curving into her usual smirk. She squeezed Jake's arm one last time, before withdrawing and approaching him over the porch. “So? You're gonna hug me or what?” she said, raising her chin and smiling fondly.

 

Her brown eyes were still shimmering with a bright light that vibrated with pure joy. She was so beautiful that for a moment Marcus felt weak on his legs. “Brace yourself for it.” he whispered, his voice coming out more hoarsely than intended.

 

Abby smirked even deeper and then she sneaked between his open arms. He squeezed her tightly, without holding back, she didn't complain, instead she returned the gesture with all the strength she could manage.

 

She felt so light and at the same time so strong in his arms. She had toned up during the holidays, he could feel her muscles tensing and relaxing under his hands. He dived his nose in her long hair, _god she smelled good._

 

She giggled and inhaled deeply, _was she sniffing at him too?_ Marcus didn't linger too much in that thought, and squeezed her harder one last time before loosening the grip. She withdrew slowly, and looked up at him. Her eyes were shining even brighter, her smile was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

 

“It's so good to be back.” she whispered, her smile softening, her eyes roaming over his features. Then her attention got caught by one wild curl that had fallen over his forehead. She giggled softly with herself and stroked it away. “You look good.” she said, so softly that for a moment he thought it wasn't meant to be said out loud.

 

“You look good too.” he whispered, and saw the blush that blossomed over her cheeks.

 

 _You look so good._ He wanted to say again, but then Jake was at their side, his hand landed over Abby's bare shoulder and she blinked, breaking the eye contact.

 

“Come on, we have a lot to catch up on.” Jake whispered, Abby nodded and smiled. Then was when Marcus realized his hands were still on her hips, and hers were steady over his shoulders. She tilted her head.

 

“You gotta let me go Marcus.” she whispered, smiling when he blinked in confusion and then withdrew awkwardly, freeing her from his grip.

 

“Sorry.” he muttered, lowering his eyes to the ground, his hands wincing at his sides. Suddenly he didn't know what he was supposed to do with them. Abby smiled fondly, while Jake started walking away, urging her to follow him with a quick glance.

 

“I've missed you too by the way.” she whispered, when Jake was far away enough to not hear. Then she printed a soft kiss on his cheek, before taking his hand and pulling him with her. “Come on, let's go.”

 

And right there, in that moment, while he let her guide him with her and Jake toward her house, swinging her hips ever so slightly, her long hair caressed by the wind, the ghost of her lips still shivering on his cheek... right in that moment Marcus realized that maybe Abby wasn't _just a friend_ anymore.

 

When she turned toward him before letting go of his hand, and flashed him one of her smiles, he knew _for_ _sure_ that Abby wasn't _just a friend_ anymore _._ Because _just a_ _friend_ wasn't supposed to cause your stomach to turn upside down and to make your heart hammer in your chest that fast. She wasn't supposed to make you blush and stare at her like that.

 

She wasn't supposed to look _that_ beautiful and she wasn't supposed to make you feel such a great desire to kiss that smirk off of her lips.

 

_Just a friend wasn't supposed to make you fall for her._

 

The problem here was that no matter what he kept telling himself, Abby was his best friend, and he had just realized he was in love with her.

 

_And that was fucked up._

 

He had been so focused on what Abby had made him feel, that hadn't realized the same was happening to his best friend. If he had paid enough attention, he would have seen the way Jake looked at her, or the way he would smile, they way _she_ would smile back at him.

 

Marcus felt _ashamed_ to feel this way toward his best friend, while Jake wasn't afraid at all to show his interest. He kept his distance, but never stopped sending her hints, and she carefully collected them all along the year that followed.

 

Until one day Jake simply decided it was time to take a step forward, a step that was going to _ruin_ everything for good.

 

But Marcus didn't know that back then. Nobody knew that back then.

 

_Until Paris happened._

 

Until he did the only thing he had told himself to _never_ do.

 

Until he screwed up, forcing Abby to make a drastic decision, a decision that was going to break his heart, and hers too in the process.

 

 

 

_**Present day** _

 

 

“The next thing I knew, she was packing up her things and moved to Boston.” Marcus said, sitting down the stool in front of Octavia, while she was chewing over the sandwich he had made, busying his hands had indeed helped in the end.

 

He had told her about their childhood, telling her about the three of them growing up together, avoiding completely the topic “ _Then I fell for her and things started getting bad”,_ of course. He had told her she and Jake had started dating at some point and that was it.

 

When that information had sank in, Octavia had suppressed her urge to ask more about it, Marcus had seen it in the way her eyebrow had flew higher on her forehead, and how her lips had parted. Then he had prayed with all his heart for her to not ask more.

 

_Luckily for him, she kept quiet._

 

“So... she just left.” Octavia said, taking a long sip of water, using that moment to ponder about all the information Marcus had just threw at her.

 

“Yeah.” he hummed, chewing at the inside of his cheek, memories of their goodbye still vividly alive in his mind.

 

“And you haven't heard from her or him till now?” she asked, while swallowing her last piece of sandwich, tilting her head.

 

“Exactly.” Marcus said, collecting their plates, moving toward the sink. Octavia's one was empty and almost didn't even need to be cleaned, his had more than half of the sandwich still intact on it.

 

“Then why coming back now? After so long?” Octavia asked, her tone was neutral, as if she knew already the answer to that question, but wanted him to say it out loud. _How could she know though?_

 

“Jake died.” he said, his voice flat, trying to suppress the tears that still prickled at his eyes whenever his mind recalled that piece of information. She kept quiet at his back for a moment, until he heard her hopping off her stool, and the next thing he knew, she was wrapping her arms around his waist.

 

“I'm sorry dad.” she whispered, her hot breath sneaking under the fabric of his shirt. The plate in his hands shivered dangerously, and he lowered them in the sink before they could fall and crash into pieces.

 

“It's ok kiddo.” he said, and closed his eyes, swallowing down a painful sob. Octavia didn't let go though, and kept him firmly close to her, her arms strong and comforting at the same time.

 

“No it isn't. Your best friend died, it's ok for you to be sad.” she murmured, nuzzling better in his black cotton shirt.

 

Then without his consent, tears started flowing down his cheeks, getting lost into his thick beard. He was quiet, not even a sound was escaping his lips, but from the way his daughter was holding him, he could say that she knew he was crying.

 

They didn't acknowledge the event, they didn't have to. She held him there, and he let her comfort him. It felt good to finally let it out, it was as if he hadn't been crying all this time, it was as if he hadn't been thinking of it constantly, day and night.

 

It was as if he was finally feeling the pain, for the first time. Octavia's presence seemed to be opening him to a new kind of grieving. To a new kind of ache, the kind that comes quietly and makes you feel everything, before finally leaving you alone.

 

He hoped that was the case, he hoped this would be the last time he would feel like this. Octavia kept holding him, and he kept crying. And all of that happened in silence, a reverent silence that was meant as a goodbye toward Jake Griffin, this time for real.

 

 ….

 

When Bellamy saw his sister for the first time, after three months, the first thing he did was to open his arms so that she could jump into them. They hugged tightly and he squeezed her with all his strength. When her chuckle bubbled out of her lungs, it reached his heart, and he knew he was finally back home.

 

When he saw Marcus for the first time after three months, he noticed immediately the darkness that was clouding his eyes, but when he smiled, and for a moment a light shimmered again into his black irises, he told himself that maybe it wasn't that bad as he had thought.

 

When they all sat down for dinner, and Octavia had finally stopped asking him thousands of questions about college, he allowed himself to feel all the emotions that reunion was giving him.

 

The first thing he had felt had been _happiness_ , a great amount of it. When his sister's eyes had landed on him and her smile had grew three sizes, he knew that nothing else in the world was comparable to the feeling his sister's joy could bring him.

 

Then he had felt _concern_ , when he had took in the sight of Marcus Kane with slumped shoulders, as if he was carrying an enormous weight over them. Then the way his eyes had immediately shifted at his back, as if he was afraid someone would appear at any time behind him, scaring the life out of him.

 

But then he had smiled, and that feeling had dissipated, when he had hugged him, strongly and firmly, he knew that whatever was going on, there was a chance it was gonna solve itself sooner or later.

 

Then they had started talking, and curiosity had took control over Octavia, and he had lost himself into dozens of giggles and chuckles, while telling her and Marcus all about his life at college, and his love for Mythology.

 

When they had sat down for dinner, and he had seen how many things they had been careful to prepare for him, how much love they had poured in every single plate and detail, his heart head grew that big in his chest that he had feared it could explode. He had missed this, he had missed his house, his _family_ ,

 

Because that was his family now, six years ago he had entered this house with a broken heart and a scared little sister, clinging at him as if he was her lifeline. Now he was happy, and she was happy too. Now they were safe, and they were home, and life was beautiful.

 

Bellamy knew he was lucky, he knew that even if bad things had happened, even if nothing was ever going to erase from his memory the pain and the fear he had felt when his mother had died, he still was lucky. Because they had found Marcus, a man that without a second thought had took them both under his wing, promising to protect and love them for as long as they needed.

 

_And he had kept his promise._

 

He had protected and loved them both deeply, and they had learned how to love him back. Now it was their time to do something in return. He needed help, with what exactly Bellamy didn't know yet, but the looks Octavia was sending him from time to time, told him she was impatient to share all the details.

 

So he waited, and when dinner was over, they shared another couple of hours on the couch together, watching a movie. When Marcus finally fell asleep, Octavia dragged him with her in her room, and then started telling him all she head learned about this woman named Abby Griffin.

 

 ….

 

“Tough day?” Niylah's voice came form behind her as a soft whisper. Abby was sitting on a bench, right under a beautiful tree in the little park situated in the middle of town. She was having a moment for herself, breathing in the sweet evening air, listening to the kids playing few feet from her, the birds chirping, the wind dancing between the branches over her head.

 

“Maybe.” she said quietly, her eyes closed, she didn't bother to look, she could feel the younger woman sitting down at her side, adjusting her weight over the bench, and then staring at her for a while, before focusing her attention over a couple of kids playing on a swing.

 

“Arkadia can be a little _suffocating_ sometimes.” she murmured, and Abby wanted to laugh at that. She knew very well how suffocating that town could be, compared to a life in the city, where it was almost impossible to meet the same person twice, where nobody really knew you.

 

“True, but it's still _fascinating_. So few people, so few secrets.” Abby whispered, her eyes still closed, the sky above her was colored in a deep orange, whispers of pink and light blue running between the clouds.

 

“And yet, it's surprising how many people can still be stranger to one another.” Niylah said, her voice sounded soft in the silent evening. “And how many secrets a town this little can still hold within.” then was when Abby finally opened her eyes, and looked at her.

 

The girl was watching her carefully, a gentle smile adorning her lips. “You know me, don't you?” she asked, because that doubt had been teasing her mind since they had met, she had the feeling this girl knew about her a lot more than what she thought. The question was _how was that possible?_ She couldn't be more than five, six years older than Clarke.

 

“What makes you think that?” Niylah answered her question with another question. Raising a curious eyebrow.

 

“Answer me first.” Abby said, she needed to know if it was just a feeling, or if this girl actually knew her. She was so used to the anonymity a city as New York could grant her. Arkadia was all but discreet, she felt exposed, and she didn't like it. Once maybe, but not anymore.

 

“No. I don't know you.” Niylah said, and she seemed honest. And yet Abby felt like it wasn't the truth, or at least not completely. “I'm just good at reading people.” she added, and smiled, focusing her attention back to the kids, that were now trying to convince their parents to make them stay a little longer.

 

“Is that so?” Abby asked, looking at the way the kids were now bending on their knees, trying to convince their parents out of compassion. “Then, what are you _reading_ in me?” she dared to ask, even if she was afraid of the answer that stranger could give her.

 

“You're a not that easy to decipher, if that's what you're afraid of.” Niylah said, smiling. “But you seem to let down your guard from time to time, in those moments you are as an open book.” Abby didn't dare to say anything, she kept quiet and listened. “You had suffered, it's visible, even when you are not exposing yourself. It's in your eyes, the weight of pain, stares hold scars too.” she inhaled deeply, Abby's silence pushing her to keep going. “But you also had known love, and happiness. It's in the wrinkles adorning your eyes, and your lips. It's in the lightness of your voice when you are in a moment of peace.” she chuckled softly.

 

Abby was past the point of ignoring her, and was now staring at her with wide eyes, in complete silence, listening carefully to this girl, that scared her and intrigued her at the same time.

 

“I never saw you before here, and yet you move around with experience, as if you know the town by memory. This make me guess you lived here, a long ago.” she smiled softly. “But then again, you seem to be always watching your back, as if somebody could show up at any moment. And yet I haven't seen you with anyone since you're here, you are always walking alone by yourself. People look at you, some whisper to each other. I didn't ask around, 'cause I mind my own business... even if it doesn't seem so.” she chuckled with herself.

 

“You left, a long time ago, for what reason of course I can't tell. It's not my place to now that, I'm merely an observer.” she smiled softly, Abby was still speechless. “But you came here with a purpose, the dress for example. You didn't realize back then, but I saw the way your eyes roamed all over it, it was as if it held memories lost a long ago.” when Abby's chin trembled, Niylah smiled sadly. “Then you showed up again, and something in the way you were carrying yourself... told me that whatever it was that you had to do, hadn't gone that well.” she shrugged, as if it was completely normal for a stranger like her to be that good at reading her.

 

_Was she that transparent?_

 

“The fact that you came back to buy something else, and that you hadn't dared to put on that dress again, tells me it had something to do with the reason you came back. I don't know why, I don't know what or _who_. But whatever reason brought you here again, you're not leaving until you have fixed whatever it is that has broken so long ago.” then she fell quiet.

 

Abby was blinking, and hadn't realized that she had tears in her eyes. She wiped them away before they could roll down her cheeks. But she was sure the girl had seen them, luckily she had respectfully decided to keep quiet about it.

 

“Gosh...” it was the only thing Abby could manage to choke out. Her throat was suddenly constricted, and it was hard to breath.

 

“I'm sorry if I was inappropriate.” the girl said, standing up. “I just hope you will be able to find your peace again. Smiles suit you more than tears.” she added, before turning on her heels and walk away.

 

Abby was still so overwhelmed by what the girl had said, that didn't dare to move nor talk, until the sun had settled.

 

Then was when her phone started buzzing to life, dragging her out of her trance. She blinked in the darkness, and took it out of her bag.

 

She brought it to her ear without bothering to look at the name on the display.

 

“Hello?” she said, her voice a low murmur.

 

From the other line came just silence for a while. She blinked again, and right when she started to think that nobody was gonna answer, a sigh filled her ears.

 

_She knew that voice._

 

“ _Abby?_ ” her heart missed a beat.

 

“Marcus?” his name came out almost _desperately_.

 

“ _Yes. It's me._ ” he said, than cleared his throat. Abby swallowed, and started asking herself what could have happened that had made him change his mind. _Why had he suddenly decided to call her?_

 

“ _Are you still in Arkadia?_ ” he asked, and she wasn't that sure, but it seemed as if he was keeping his voice down to not be heard.

 

“Yes, I am.”

 

“ _Why?_ ” he asked, and Abby smiled sadly.

 

“Isn't it obvious?” she murmured, starting to play with a leaf that had fallen over her lap. A light breeze had started dancing around her, causing goosebumps to pepper all over her bare legs.

 

“ _Honestly? Not that much_.” he said, and Abby licked at her lips, thinking of what she could say, but he didn't let her the time to do that. “ _You should go back home. You should go back to your daughter, your work. If you're here for me, than you should just go back home._ ”

 

Abby didn't know how to answer to that. She was there for him? Or more for herself? Certainly she had thought he needed to know about Jake, she had waited long enough, too long to be honest. Now he knew, she had done what she had to do. She had apologized, she still thought he hadn't accepted those apologies, and forgiveness was still a forbidden concept between them.

 

But she still felt like there was more they had to talk about, more they had to clarify. Then she could go back home.

 

_Home._

 

Home meant going back to Clarke, Raven, her work, her city, the city she had learned to love side by side with Jake. Home meant going back to her routine, waking up early in the morning, going to the hospital, working side by side with her favorite assistant, Jackson, until she would collapse and he would force her to go back home and rest.

 

Home meant calling for Clarke at any given chance, waiting for the moment they would see each other again, when she wasn't too busy with her exams. She had picked med school just as her, and Abby knew how hard it was to keep up with all she had to study.

 

Home meant waiting for Raven to finish working in front of her garage, whenever Jackson would kick her out of the hospital earlier in the evening. They would share a quick dinner, and the girl would keep her company in those nights where Clarke's absence was almost unbearable.

 

Home meant going back to her quiet room, her nightmares, those nightmares that would keep her awake all night long.

 

Home meant going back to where she had loved, where she had been happy, where she had raised her beautiful daughter. Where her husband had died, where his ghost still lingered. Trapped between the walls, hiding in every shirt and sweater she still hadn't been able to throw away.

 

Home meant leaving Arkadia and Marcus behind, once again.

 

And all of a sudden the thought of doing that, of going back, made her feel sick to her stomach.

 

She wanted to see Raven and her daughter again, she really wanted to, but going back scared her, she was afraid of her own house, of her memories, of everything.

 

Then was when she realized that the reason why she was still here, wasn't because of Marcus, not completely. She was here because here was where Jake had been born, raised, and had been happy. Here Jake hadn't died, he had lived, and they had fallen in love with each other, and here they had been _happy_.

 

Here was where memories lingered in a time she could handle, in a time she could go back to, here things were still hard, but not that painful.

 

That was why she was still here, because she could finally sleep without having nightmares. Because here Jake hadn't died. _Because here they had been happy._

 

Ironic how she had been thinking this was a place she wanted to forget, when she had decided to leave twenty years ago. She had thought Arkadia held memories she didn't need anymore. She wanted to start all over again, she wanted something different. Because she had been happy, but all of a sudden her heart had been broken, and she wanted to put as much distance as possible between herself and that painful memory.

 

And now that same place she had left, was the place she had came back to, to find relief and peace.

 

_Ironic indeed._

 

“ _Are you still there?”_ he asked her suddenly, dragging her out of her thoughts.

 

“Yeah, I am.” she whispered, lowering her eyes once again. It was too dark to see anything, the streetlamps didn't reach that specific spot in the park. She was covered in shadows, but she felt comfortable, nobody could see her now, and it almost felt as if in this moment, she and Marcus' voice only existed.

 

“I'm not here for you. I'm here for myself.” she said, and for once she wasn't lying. It was true, she was there for herself. That meant of course that she was there for him too, because feeling better meant also reconnecting with him.

 

He seemed to ponder about her words for a while, before sighing out heavily. _“You have always been so stubborn.”_ he said, it wasn't meant as an insult, it was a matter of fact, and she couldn't deny it was true.

 

“Some things never change.” she whispered, smiling sadly. She could almost picture him doing the same.

 

“ _Instead, others things change completely.”_ he whispered, and she nodded, even if he couldn't see her.

 

“ _You_ changed.” she dared to say. He huffed out what sounded as a chuckle. Abby couldn't help the smirk that blossomed on her lips.

 

“ _Not that much apparently.”_ he muttered, more to himself than to her.

 

“Well, a daughter and a beard are quiet two big changes.” she said, standing up from her bench, suddenly it was getting too cold to still feel comfortable. She was already walking when he answered.

 

“ _Actually she has a brother.”_ he said, surprising her. Not just because now she knew he had _two_ kids, but because of how easily he had shared that piece of his story with her. It warmed up her heart.

 

“Wow... two kids? I bet they are both amazing.” she said, smiling fondly to herself. Marcus let out a breathy chuckle.

 

“ _Yeah well, they are sixteen and twenty-two, I wouldn't call them exactly kids.”_ he said, his voice finally lighter. Abby chuckled, then frowned, a question popping up in her mind.

 

“Wait... twenty-two? But how's that-” she started to ask, but he cleared his throat, interrupting her before she could question him any further.

 

“ _They are adopted.”_ he said. Abby stopped walking, and her lips parted ever so slightly.

 

“Oh.” she whispered. That was something she wasn't expecting. “You... you adopted them?” she couldn't stop herself from asking. She was afraid he could feel her intruding too much, it was still too soon, but she had always found it hard to keep quiet. Especially with him.

 

“ _Yes. Six years ago.”_ he said, and Abby couldn't say if she was smiling more because of the thought of him picking up two orphans, or because he hadn't withdrawn yet, and was still talking to her. She decided she didn't care, and kept smiling.

 

“They are lucky kids.” she whispered, slowing down when she could see the lights of her hotel shimmering at the other side of the street.

 

“ _I'm the lucky one._ ” he said, and Abby closed her eyes, feeling how her heart had started to squeeze inside of her chest. Her breath shortening, she swallowed.

 

“I'm so happy for you Marcus.” she managed to say eventually, her voice coming out with effort. Suddenly she was feeling guilty. Guilty for denying themselves a chance to be part of each other's lives all this time.

 

He hadn't been there when Clarke had come. She hadn't been there when he had decided to do such a selfless act as adopting two kids. He hadn't been there for her wedding. She hadn't been there for... _wait, was he married?_

 

She hadn't bothered to ask, she hadn't even asked herself if he was married, if he was in love. She had discovered about Octavia so suddenly, that her brain hadn't made the connection that for a baby it takes two people.

 

But then again, he had just said she and her brother were adopted. This didn't answer her question though. He could have a wife, a lover, someone at his side, they could have decided together to take those kids instead of having their own. Maybe they couldn't have kids at all.

 

 _I'm the lucky one._ He had said. Did it mean that he was alone? Or it meant nothing in particular? She started to dig into her memory, trying to recall a single detail in his house that she could connect with the presence of a woman.

 

But she couldn't remember any picture, not even of Octavia or him. She hadn't looked that much at her surroundings, except for few details, she had been too focused on telling him about Jake...

 

All of a sudden she was feeling the urge to ask him, she wanted to know more about him, she wanted to know everything.

 

“ _Listen, I gotta go now._ ” he said all of a sudden, dragging her out of the bubble of thoughts she had slipped in.

 

“Wait!” she said, almost too abruptly. He kept quiet, and she took it as her chance to keep talking. “I... I would like to see you again.” she said, closing her eyes and praying he would say yes.

 

“ _I don't know if it's a good idea.”_ he whispered, his voice heavier once again.

 

_He didn't know, he hadn't said no, was it a good sign?_

 

“Think about it.” she said, nodding with herself. “Just... think about it.” she said again, licking her lips, once again hoping he would say yes.

 

“ _I can't promise you anything Abby._ ” he said, and Abby chewed at the inside of her cheek nervously.

 

“Then don't.” she said, and smiled sadly. “Just think about it. You know how to reach me.” her words hanged in the air for a while, before he huffed a sad chuckle.

 

“ _Yeah, this time I do._ ” then he fell silent, and she didn't know how to answer back. So she kept quiet.

 

_He is right. And you deserve it._

 

“ _Be good Abby.”_ he said then, but didn't hang up on her, he was waiting for her to say something back.

 

“You too. I hope to hear from you soon. Goodnight Marcus.” she whispered.

 

“ _Goodnight Abby._ ” he said, after a long pause. Then he hanged up and Abby found herself listening to a dead line.

 

When she finally found the strength to shove her phone back in her bag, she had a watery smile coloring her lips, and her heart was suddenly lighter.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Abby's mother is half italian, sorry but I had to. Her name is Elena (italian pronunciation)
> 
> Tesoro: Honey
> 
> Amore: Love
> 
> Mamma: Mum


	6. The Neighbor's Blue House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Marcus woke up that Saturday morning, his mind started thinking of Abby as soon as his eyes opened. Her last words still ringing in his ears, reminding him that she was still a presence in his life. Eventually it had happened, she was back.

 

 

When Marcus woke up that Saturday morning, his mind started thinking of Abby as soon as his eyes opened. Her last words still ringing in his ears, reminding him that she was still a presence in his life. Eventually it had happened, _she was back._

 

He was preparing himself a coffee, when Octavia's joyful laugh reached him from the backyard. She was sitting at the garden table with her brother, they were having breakfast while chatting cheerfully. A bowl of chocolate cereal for her, a dark coffee with a couple of butter cookies for him.

 

They looked _happy_. Happy to be together again, happy to share a moment, simple and familiar, but that the both of them had missed while being apart. Her green eyes were shimmering with adoration, looking at her brother intensely, while he talked to her about college and his new friends.

 

Marcus leaned his shoulder against the door-frame, and enjoyed the view. His heart singing in his chest, a fresh and warm smile adorning his lips. Abby wasn't filling his mind anymore, his attention was all for his kids.

 

_His kids._

 

Sometimes, when he looked at Octavia, having breakfast with him or doing her homework few inches from him on the couch, he still couldn't quiet believe that she was his daughter. Adopted yes, but still _his._

 

Marcus had never possessed anything of great value in his life. The house he lived in now had been his mother's. The blue pickup was the last thing his father had left him. Apart from some old jewels of his grandmother, a couple of fancy things he had bought himself along the years, and a suit his father had bought for him and that he had passed to Bellamy, he had nothing.

 

He had never possessed anything of value, before Octavia and Bellamy had entered his life. He didn't say it out loud, nor he liked to think about them in that way, but it was undeniably true that he felt as if he actually _possessed_ them.

 

He knew very well that people aren't object, and you can not possess someone just as you can possess a car or a house. Objects are replaceable, people aren't. He knew that very well.

 

But the feeling of _possession_ he felt toward them was strong and hard to fight. It was a feeling that grew out of love, a love so strong that sometimes he had found himself unable to control his emotions. If Octavia didn't respect the curfew, if Bellamy didn't call when he was supposed to, if she was sick, if he was sick.

 

He had found himself snapping and freaking out many times at the beginning. Especially in the first year, things had been hard, for all of them. Octavia was ten, Bellamy sixteen, and they had just lost their mother, it had started in the worst possible way.

 

Aurora Blake had left behind her two scared kids, with broken hearts and tears constantly rolling down their cheeks. The first time they had met, he was the cop on duty and they were the children of the victim of a brutal rape, a rape that had ended up with the woman's death.

 

He remembered way too well the look on Bellamy's face. He wasn't a kid anymore, and in his black hollow eyes Marcus could see the horror and the pain, shivering unshed tears threatening to escape his eyes.

 

Little Octavia was a ball of trembling flesh and bones, green bright eyes wide in panic, she was clinging at her brother's arm with all of her strength, her face partially hiding in the fabric of his jacket.

 

_They were two sides of the same coin._

 

One was stoic, rigid, tensed. Clenched jaw and steady eyes, fists ready to fight if needed. The other a shivering leaf, every emotion passing through her wide terrified eyes, softly sobbing, tears shamelessly rolling down her rosy cheeks.

 

It took Marcus just one look to know he couldn't leave them alone.

 

So a month and an incredible amount of papers and calls later, when he was sure there were no other relatives alive, he officially became their legal guardian.

 

Not even two years later, they agreed on being adopted.

 

Six years ago he had met two scared orphans. Today they were having breakfast in his garden, and they were happy.

 

 _He_ was happy.

….

 

If you asked Abby Griffin to tell you when her life had started, she would always answer the 24 th  October, 2000.

 

The day Clarke was born was the day Abby Griffin had came to life. It had happened just like that, one last push, Clarke's first scream to the world, and Abby was completely and deeply in love.

 

It hadn't been as she had imagined, it had been _better_.

 

The pain, the fatigue, the immense stress her body had to face in order to create another life, all was forgotten as soon as her daughter was in her arms. Nine months of waiting, four hours of labor, and finally she was holding her baby.

 

Nothing else was ever going to make Abby Griffin feel _that_ alive and in love. Nothing and nobody.

 

Her mother always used to say: “You'll never love someone like you'll love your own kid.” and that day Abby realized it was true.

 

The Abby Griffin that was currently in her forties, had came to life eighteen years ago, when her daughter had been born. This of course didn't mean that everything that had happened before that day had been forgotten.

 

Inside every human being there are multiple shades of the same soul. Abby was no different.

 

She was a carefree kid dreaming to become a doctor, a stubborn and shy teenager growing up with her two best friends, a determined young adult studying for her future medical career, and then she was Clarke's mother, a stubborn, determined, brilliant and successful doctor.

 

Every shade of who she had been throughout her life, was still there, shaping her into the woman that was currently waiting an answer, from a man that she hadn't seen in twenty years.

 

What she hoped was for Marcus to remember who she had been, who _they_ had been, and then to never forget who they were now. How many things had changed, how many things had happened, and how their life had been able to keep moving on, giving them a chance to be happy, even if their paths had been divided.

 

Now she was back, reaching out for him. She didn't want to be a ghost of his past, she didn't want to be a memory he was so hard trying to forget. She wanted to be a presence once again, a constant into this new life he had created.

 

She was _proud_ of him, and she wanted him to know it. She was proud of the man he had become, not that he needed her approval to know that he was a good man, that he had been able to create a life for himself.

 

But she was terribly proud of what he had done with his life, moving on, creating, living. She had never thought that he was going to think of her forever, that he was never gonna survive her departure. She had never put such a pressure on herself, she had no reason to think someone could be that affected by her. Nobody should give that power to anyone.

 

She had thought he was going to miss her though, just as she knew she was going to miss him. In fact he had missed her, she knew, he had said it in words and with his eyes, _oh_ _his eyes._ Those black ocean pearls were like an open book, pages filled with thousands of different feelings, one deepest than the other.

 

She had imagined to find a stern cold man waiting for her, but as soon as he had opened that door, five days ago, she had immediately saw each and every one of his emotions, shimmering into the confusion and surprise his eyes had flashed at her.

 

He had looked shocked but relieved, desperate and in pain, then simply deeply angry. She couldn't blame him, she had expected him to be mad, sad, in pain. But imaging something is well different from actually witnessing it with your own eyes.

 

She had broke his heart, he had said that, and she was terribly sorry for it. But since she couldn't go back in time and make up for what she had done then, she had to do it now, in the present.

 

She was stubborn, and she knew that it was the right thing to do. Even just a couple of years ago she would have never come back. But Jake's death had changed many things, many plans, many certainties she had back then, had been shattered to pieces.

 

Jake had died and a new shade of Abby had been born, a darker, heavier, sadder one. She didn't like it, and she knew that the only way to move on, _ironically_ , was to move back, back where everything had begun.

 

Back to the piece of her heart she had left behind, along with her best friend, her childhood memories and her parents' house.

 

The same house she was stepping inside again after twenty years.

….

 

The first thing that Marcus noticed, was that the a window on the second floor of the Walters' house was open.

 

 _Weird._ He thought.

 

That house had been uninhibited for fifteen years. When Abby and Jake had moved to Boston, their parents hadn't followed immediately. Marcus had joined the police academy five months later, he had lived for four years into Washington D.C., then had decided to come back home.

 

When he did so, he discovered that both the Griffins and the Walters had left. The latter came back several times during the next year for various reasons, then they moved for good. He didn't ask, they didn't tell, but he knew they had moved in order to be closer to Abby and Jake.

 

Back then he didn't know what had pushed them to finally follow them, but thinking back at it now, he supposed it had something to do with Clarke.

 

The second thing that Marcus noticed, was that a someone had moved a table and a couple of chairs from the garage to the backyard. _Someone_ was inside the Walters house. It took him less than a couple of seconds to realize it could be just one person.

 

The only person that after the Walters' death had inherited the house.

 

_Their daughter._

….

 

“Where do you think is he going?” Octavia asked her brother, when Marcus stormed outside the house without a word. Bellamy turned his head away from the TV and peeked outside the large window that faced the garden, and the blue house adjacent to theirs.

 

“I don't know.” he murmured. Octavia stood up from the couch and walked toward the window, trying to get a glimpse of him. At first she saw nothing, then a wisp of black thick hair appeared at the other side of the white fence that divided the two gardens.

 

“What is he doing in the neighbor's house?” she whispered, searching for an answer into her brother's eyes, as if he could know.

 

“He never went there before?” he asked, standing up and approaching her, searching for him through the glass.

 

“No.” Octavia whispered, frowning. “Oh come one, for real?” she suddenly muttered, causing Bellamy to raise a curious eyebrow at her.

 

“What?” he asked, trying to follow her line of sight. At first he saw nothing, then his eyes traveled to the backyard. From this angle they couldn't see every part of it, but there was someone moving around a table, and it wasn't Marcus.

 

“Is that...?” he started whispering, when the figure moved and he could see that it was a woman, she had long caramelized hair, but was too far away to get any other detail.

 

“What is _she_ doing here?” Octavia hissed, withdrawing from the window, already heading toward the front door.

 

“O. wait!” Bellamy stormed after her and grabbed her by the arm. “Wait!” he growled again, when she tried to free herself.

 

“Why?” she snorted. “That woman is here and she will _mess_ him up again, I will not let that happen, not again!” her cheeks were reddening, fury shimmering in her eyes.

 

“I know that you're worried O., believe me I do! But you can't intrude like that into their personal stuff, you gotta let him solve this by himself.” his hands were now circling softly his sister's wrists, a soothing gesture he had perfected along the years.

 

“What is she doing here Bell? Why can't she just leave?” she looked more worried than angry now, her eyes fixed on the window, trying to get a glimpse of what was going on outside.

 

“I don't know. But we can find out.” he whispered, stroking her cheek. Octavia nodded in silence and he guided her toward their backyard.

 

They sat down on the grass, their backs to the fence. If Marcus and _that_ Abby were still outside the house, they would be able to hear them talking from here, without being seen. He put a finger over his lips, signaling Octavia to be quiet, as when they were kids. She nodded quickly and then they both started waiting.

 

….

 

Marcus knew that he probably looked like a _creep_ , but he suddenly couldn't find a single reason to make his presence noticed. He could only look at her.

 

She was carefully cleaning one of the two metal chairs that he remembered to be the same her parents used, whenever they wanted a quiet moment for themselves in the silence of their garden, especially in spring and summer.

 

Her hands were gentle, while she rubbed a humid piece of fabric over the dust that had formed along the years. He couldn't see her face, cause she was giving him her back, but he could picture her with a sad smile over her lips.

 

One always formed over his whenever he would find himself face to face with something that had belonged to his parents. Time can't erase the pain for a loss, it simply teaches you how to handle it.

 

She was kneeling over the grass, the sleeves of her light white blouse were rolled up to the elbows, her long black summer skirt was draped over the green blades at her feet. He noticed she had left her shoes over the porch, she had always liked to feel the grass under her feet whenever she had a chance.

 

Time hadn't changed that detail.

 

He couldn't say how long he stood there, watching in silence, stealing secret memories of that moment Abby was having for herself. Eventually she stood up and turned, her head bowed to the ground.

 

She took a couple of steps, before she noticed him. She didn't yell, nor she looked startled in any way. Her eyes blinked in his direction, and she stopped. They looked at each other then, unspoken questions shimmering back and forth between their eyes.

 

 

_What are you doing here?_

 

_How long have you been there?_

 

_Are you gonna say something?_

 

_Are you gonna leave?_

 

_Why are you still here?_

 

_Do you want me to leave?_

 

 

Eventually she adverted her eyes and walked toward the sink behind her back, she opened the water and started cleaning the dirty towel, not a single word left her lips. Marcus kept watching her, until the towel was clean and she headed back to the chair, resuming her work.

 

“Are you gonna stay there all day long, or are you gonna help me out here?” she murmured eventually. Marcus didn't answer, she peeked at him, then smiled softly. “I don't bite.” she said, standing up. She took a clean towel from a box on the ground and walked toward him.

 

“Here.” she whispered, offering him the piece of fabric. Marcus kept silent but took the towel from her hands, his eyes never leaving hers. “Ok then.” she sighed, nodding with herself, walking back to the chair.

 

Marcus followed her, and in complete silence approached the chair in front of hers and started cleaning it.

 

They kept working for a long time, not a single word left their lips. Their eyes never stopped searching each other though. He would peek at her whenever she wasn't looking, she would glance at him when he was distracted. They kept dancing around each other like that, until the chairs were completely cleaned, and the towels had turned from white to almost black.

 

“Are you gonna say something at some point?” she whispered, while adjusting the now clean chair under the table. Marcus fixed the other one in the same way, then approached her. She peeked at him but didn't dare to fully meet his eyes. When he was close enough to touch her, she raised her chin and swallowed, finally looking him straight in the eyes.

 

“I didn't know you had the keys with you.” he whispered, taking the dirty towel from her hands. His fingers grazed her soft skin for a brief moment, he noticed the way her muscles tensed at the touch. Goosebumps formed all over his arms, but he ignored it, withdrawing rapidly, heading toward the sink.

 

“I took them with me without really thinking.” she mumbled, he could here her light steps over the soft grass, she was walking toward him. His muscles tensed. “I didn't want to come here at first though.” she appeared at his side, he could see her in the corner of his eyes, leaning over the sink, few inches from him.

 

“What changed your mind?” he asked, squeezing the towel under the fresh water jet, looking at the way the dirt and dust were flowing in black waves into the pipes.

 

“Well, I thought it was a bit awkward to stay into a hotel when I have a house here...” her words hanged in the air for a while, she was peeking at him, and he could see the way she was torturing her lower lip nervously.

 

“You plan on stay here that long then?” he asked, trying to stabilize his voice. The thought of her living few meters from him caused his whole body to shiver in panic.

 

“I should clean up this place, if I am gonna _sell_ it.” she said, crossing her arms, her eyes roaming over the house.

 

“You want to sell it?” he asked then, closing the tap, looking at her. Droplets of water were falling slowly from the towel in his hands. She sighed heavily.

 

“It's a shame to let it go to waste like that.” she smiled sadly, tilting her head. “It's such a beautiful house, someone should live here, filling the rooms with fresh air and light.” her smile growing. “Don't you think?” she asked, looking at him.

 

Marcus kept silent, her words circling in his head. “Probably yes.” he eventually said.

 

 _Don't sell it._ His mind echoed back. _If you will, there will be nothing left here for you. You'll never come back._

 

Suddenly the thought of her leaving again, selling the house, erasing the memory of her from Arkadia completely, was even more painful than seeing her again after so long.

 

“I think so too.” she whispered. Her eyes lingered on him for a long moment, a shy ray of sun was sneaking between her eyelashes, lighting up the rich brown of her irises, causing whispers of gold to shimmer into them.

 

She looked so beautiful in that moment, beautiful as the Abby his mind remembered so well. In that moment her face wasn't a proof of the time that had passed, she was once again twenty years old, young and beautiful, whispering her last goodbye into his ear, few inches from his cheek.

 

He was painfully aware that she wasn't twenty anymore, that time had passed and things had changed, but his mind couldn't quiet seem to withdrew from that memory of her right now.

 

“God, you haven't aged a year.” he whispered absentmindedly. For a moment he asked himself if he had just thought it, but when her lips parted and her eyes widened, even if just slightly, he knew he had said it out loud, and that she had heard him.

 

“That's a blatant lie, and you know it.” she said, forcing a smirk over her lips. She was just trying to defuse the sudden tension and embarrassment. It didn't work, but he was grateful she had at least tried.

 

He smiled, trying to pretend like the awkwardness, that he could feel growing around them, wasn't actually there. She smiled back, shyly. “The beard suits you though.” she whispered, when he had started squeezing the towel again, busying his hands maybe would help his heart from stop hammering that hard in his chest.

 

“It makes you look wiser.” she added, when he didn't answer.

 

“I don't know about that.” he said, looking at her. Her eyes were fixed on his chin and cheeks. “Octavia thinks I look like a weird kind of old... how was that? Oh right, _hipster._ ” at that Abby looked up again and frowned.

 

“Whatever that means.” he added, shrugging. Abby kept quiet for a moment, then her lips cracked into a smile and she chuckled softly. He couldn't help himself and chuckled back.

 

For a moment the tension between them faded, and Marcus used that chance to take a deep breath.

 

“She seems really amazing.” she said, before silence could overcome the both of them again.

 

“She is.” he said without thinking, smiling with himself, leaving the wet towel on the edge of the sink.

 

“I bet her brother is amazing too.” she added, tilting her head. She was flashing him such a sweet and honest smile, that Marcus found it hard to stop staring.

 

“He is too.” he whispered, his eyes suddenly really interested in the shape of her lips, stretching into that mesmerizing smile he hadn't seen in so long.

 

_God, he had missed her._

 

“I bet Clarke is probably the most beautiful and smart girl in whole New York city.” he said, forcing his eyes away from her lips. Abby's smile grew even deeper, and a blush creeped over her cheeks.

 

“She is definitely the most beautiful and smart girl I've ever met.” she said. Marcus nodded.

 

“Yeah...” he whispered, suddenly unable to take his eyes off of her. Abby held his gaze in silence for a long moment.

 

“She has Jake's eyes.” she whispered softly then, her smile turning from bright to nostalgic. “And his same blonde hair. Gosh...” she withdrew from the sink, and started pacing over the grass. “They have the same sense of humor, the same laugh.” her arms were tightening around her torso now.

 

Marcus kept quiet, his eyes following her while she moved around him.

 

“Sometimes I wonder what she got from me. She is exactly as her father.” her voice was soft now, a whisper dancing in the soft breeze circling around them.

 

“I bet she got a lot from you too.” he found himself saying. Abby at that stopped circling on herself and looked at him, shrugging slightly.

 

“She is stubborn. Does that count?” she asked him, tilting her head. Marcus smirked.

 

“I think you can say that.” he whispered, taking few steps toward her, his body moving closer to her instinctively. She didn't complain though, nor did he.

 

“She is also studying to become a doctor. I guess we have that in common too.” she said, smiling fondly.

 

“Doctor uh? Well, then I guess she must be a smart ass just as her mother.” he said, and Abby at that smirked deeply and chuckled.

 

“Jake was just as smart as me.” she said, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Mh, if I remember correctly though, he wasn't that aware of it as you were.” he said, and suddenly felt extremely comfortable in teasing her. She parted her lips, raised her eyebrows, and then suppressed what looked like a smirk.

 

“Since I am _that_ smart, I will not answer you.” she murmured, a smirk fully adorning her lips now. Marcus couldn't help it and grinned himself, and there they were, twenty years younger, best friends again, no tension, no past getting in their way.

 

They were just Abby and Marcus, and it felt good.

 

 _Too_ good to last apparently.

 

When a muttered “ _Huff”_ came from the other side of the fence, they bot jolted on their feet and turned toward the sudden sound. Abby frowned and flashed him a confused look. Marcus said nothing and approached the fence, peeking over it.

 

Bellamy and Octavia were sitting with their backs glued against the fence, he was plastering a hand over his sister's mouth, while she was looking up at him with wide eyes.

 

“What's going on here?” he muttered, his hands on his hips, his jaw clenched.

 

“Shit.” Bellamy hissed, freeing his sister. Octavia was already blushing in embarrassment, Abby approached him and peeked herself at the both of them, trying very hard to suppress a smirk. He could see the way she was chewing on the inside of her cheek, trying to hide her amusement.

 

“I think I will go back inside now.” she whispered to him, turning on her heels rapidly. Marcus just hummed, and then closed his eyes, trying to remain as calm as possible.

 

“Would you mind explain yourselves?” he said, once Abby was far away enough to not hear them.

 

“It was his idea, I swear!” Octavia snapped, standing up and pointing her index finger toward her brother. Marcus flashed her a cold glare, raising an eyebrow. “It's true!” she said, while Bellamy stood up himself and crossed his arms.

 

“Sorry.” he just whispered, bowing slightly his head in what looked like shame. Octavia was pursing her lips, Marcus waited for her to apologize, but she looked ready to do anything but that.

 

“You will have to apologize to Abby too.” he muttered, he was talking to the both of them but his eyes never left Octavia.

 

“Of course.” Bellamy said, taking his sister by the arm. But she was looking at Marcus with a deep frown engraving on her forehead and didn't move, her lips already parting.

 

“It's not up to discussion.” Marcus said, before she could protest. Bellamy forced her to follow him toward the house then, she kept flashing angry glares at him while her brother pushed her inside.

 

“There's no need for them to apologize.” Abby said suddenly. Marcus blinked and turned, she was leaning on the door-frame, looking at him with a soft smile on her lips. “They are just worried and curious.” she whispered, walking toward him, her arms crossed.

 

“I'm sorry.” he said in a whisper, feeling the need to apologize for their behavior. Abby shook her head, shrugging and smiling.

 

“I told you, there's no need.” and she seemed to mean it.

 

“They were eavesdropping Abby.” he shook his head, “That hadn't happened in a long while, I gotta say I wasn't expecting them to act that childishly.” he said, bowing his head to the ground.

 

“It's ok, really.” she said, a smile coloring her voice. Marcus was about to protest again, but then Abby's hand landed over his shoulder and she squeezed it softly. He looked up at her, feeling a jolt of _something_ running through his veins at the contact. She was looking at him with delicate eyes, her lips curving into the softest of smiles, and suddenly he felt as if there was nothing else he could add.

 

“I'm glad you staid by the way.” she whispered, withdrawing rapidly, as if finally realizing what she was doing. “It's been good to talk a bit.” she added, wrapping her arms around herself once again, taking a step backward. Marcus was still unable to form any kind of coherent thought.

 

“You're sure it's ok if I will stay here a while? As soon as the house will be ready I'll be out of here, I promise.” she was looking at him with hopeful eyes now, trying to read into his silence if he was ok with it or not.

 

Marcus managed to nod slightly, her head followed his movements instinctively. “Yeah.” he said, clearing his throat, running a hand through his hair. “Of course Abby.” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

 

“Thank you.” she quietly said, a timid whisper that seemed much more than mere gratitude.

 

“No problem, take your time.” he said, offering her a smile, she smiled in return and nodded.

 

“I'm gonna inform Clarke then.” she said, already walking backwards toward the house. “She's worried sick, and I don't want to make things worse.” she added, chuckling nervously.

 

“Of course.” Marcus murmured, smiling when she stopped on the doorway, tilting her head and waving a shy goodbye at him.

 

“Be good.” she whispered, then flashed a look toward his house, “Don't be too hard on them.” she murmured softly, smirking deeply when Marcus snorted. “See ya.” was the last thing she said, before disappearing inside the house, closing the door at her back.

 

Marcus was left alone in the Walters' backyard then, his hands in his pockets, a smile still lingering over his lips.

 

Abby's goodbye still echoing in the silence around him.

 

_See ya._

 

 _We will see each other again._ He couldn't help but think. _We definitely will._

….

 

“ _What do you mean with a week or two?”_ Clarke was saying in a shrill voice _._

 

Abby had called her as soon as she had found herself alone. She had checked from the window to be sure Marcus was gone, while the phone was already pressed against her ear.

 

As soon as her daughter had picked up, she had pulled the curtains and had started pacing the house, while explaining to her daughter that she wasn't gonna be home that soon as she wished.

 

“I have to prepare the house honey, since I'm here I thought it was the only reasonable thing I could do. It's been empty for so long.” she said, biting nervously at her lower lip. Since she had set foot in Arkadia she had been torturing herself quiet a lot, she had to get a grip on herself and calm down.

 

“ _You have never mentioned it mum. Why do you need to sell it now? Can't you call someone to do it for you?_ ” Clarke sounded exasperated now, and she had every right to be sick and tired with her. First she had left home without informing anyone of her plans, then she was planning on staying another couple of weeks in that place far away from home, completely alone, to do something she hadn't once talked about with her or anyone else.

 

She had thought about it along the years though. That house was so beautiful, and leaving it empty and cold like that was indeed a waste. Someone there could take care of it, houses like that one deserved a family inside of their walls, filling the room with voices, stories, memories had to be created again. Abby owed that to her parents, they had loved that place so much, she had loved it so much.

 

She _still_ loved it.

 

“It's my parents' house Clarke, I can't let someone else take care of it.” she said softly, her fingers running all over a shelf that still held some of her father's old books. Her eyes roaming over the titles printed on the covers. A soft smile forming over her lips, memories of her father and his love for literature coming back to her, warming up her heart.

 

“ _Ok, then I will come and help._ ” Clarke said suddenly, her last words hanging in the air for a moment, before Abby blinked and started shaking her head.

 

“No! No, absolutely not! There's no need.” Abby's heart started beating frantically.

 

“ _It wasn't a question mum. We're coming over._ ” Clarke said, and Abby knew that with _we_ she meant her and Raven.

 

_Oh no. No. No._

 

“Honey listen I-” but her daughter didn't let her finish, she shushed her with a stern _No._ and then sighed out heavily.

 

“ _I'm not gonna stay here and wait while you are there doing all of that alone. I'm coming, and Raven will come too. We will be there first thing in the morning tomorrow, and you better still be there mum, I'm serious._ ” she added, her tone made it clear she wasn't joking.

 

Abby didn't know what to say. She was gripping at the shelf at her side, her knuckles turning white, her heartbeat heavy and almost painful, reverberating in her constricted throat. “I'm not going anywhere.” she managed to choke out. Clarke hummed and then promised to call her again later that evening, before ending the call.

 

Abby had still the phone pressed against her ear when it fell silent, her eyes staring at a random spot over the floor of the living room, her lips slightly parted.

 

_What the hell had just happened?_

….

 

“I said I'm not sorry!” Octavia growled, slamming a fist over the table, causing it to vibrate loudly. Marcus was crossing his arms, standing few feet from her, his eyes cold and stern. He was angry, really angry, and Octavia wasn't make it any easier.

 

“You were eavesdropping.” he growled, keeping his voice low, reproachful but steady, he had to keep calm and be the adult here.

 

“So? You don't talk to us, I had to know what was going on.” she said, her cheeks were reddening, she was getting angry, her green eyes were furious and her jaw was clenched. Bellamy was sitting opposite at her, his eyes fixed on the reflection of lights over the glass table, he was quiet, just as Octavia was loud.

 

They had always faced arguments in different ways, he would always be silent, more reflective and composed. While Octavia would always raise her voice, her body moving accordingly to her mood, never able to simply shut up and listen, she always had something else to say.

 

“This wasn't just about me Octavia! You were intruding a private moment with someone else!” he muttered, feeling the way his heartbeat was accelerating, signaling he was about to lose it.

 

_Keep calm._

 

“I don't care! She can be mad at me all she wants! I have the right to know what the hell is going on here!” she was pointing her index finger with anger toward the large window that faced over the blue house, where Abby currently was.

 

“She isn't angry.” Marcus hissed, thinking back at the way she had smiled, at the sound of her voice, calm and understanding. She really wasn't mad, and hadn't found it offending in any way.

 

Octavia frowned at that, for a moment she fell quiet, but then shrugged and huffed. “Well then I don't get why you are so mad.” she muttered, crossing her arms and shaking her head. Marcus inhaled deeply, trying to find a way to get her to understand him.

 

He understood her point of view, he really did, but she had to get that this wasn't a reasonable excuse for what she had done. It wasn't fair for her, and he got that too, but she had to ask and wait for him to give her the information she thought she had a right to know.

 

What Octavia didn't know was that what had happened between him and Abby belonged to his past, and his past and his present for him, were two distinctive things. Of course what had happened had shaped him into the man he was now, but he still wanted to keep those two periods separated.

 

His life before and his life after were two sides of the same coin, true, but it also meant they would always be facing two opposites direction, and would never meet.

 

“I hope you will come to the conclusion that you owe her an apology.” he said, and Octavia grimaced and glared at him, a protest already growing over the tip of her tongue. “Don't say a thing. Go to your room, think about it, then and only _then,_ we will talk again.” he said, his tone low and heavy.

 

He could see the way Octavia was suppressing her instinct to argue, but his cold stare did the trick, she huffed and turned on her heels, flashing a last look at her brother, before climbing the stairs and slamming the door of her room loudly at her back.

 

Marcus inhaled and exhaled deeply, as soon as she was gone. His muscles were tensed, and he could feel the rush of adrenaline starting to fade in his veins, leaving behind a warm and dull feeling.

 

“Don't be too hard on her.” Bellamy murmured suddenly. Marcus had almost forgot he was still there, and blinked rapidly in his direction, the boy was looking at him intensely. “She's worried.” he said again.

 

“I know.” Marcus said, sitting down at the boy's side. “But it's not an excuse.” he added, rubbing his face with the palm of his hands, feeling extremely tired all of a sudden.

 

“It was my idea, not hers.” Bellamy said, he was scratching his thumb with the tip of his nails, his brow furrowed, he was trying to focus his attention on something that wasn't him.

 

Marcus said nothing, and just looked at him in silence. Bellamy wasn't meeting his gaze, but his jaw was clenched, and his eyes were steady over his hands. He was listening, waiting for him to say something, he wanted to clear this up, and as his usual, he was going to stay quiet and calm, ready to face whatever kind of repercussion was coming his way.

 

But Bellamy wasn't a kid anymore, and surely Marcus couldn't ground him or tell him to go to his room. Octavia wasn't a kid either, but she still lived there, she was only sixteen, and to his eyes, she was _the little one_ , this of course always pissed her off, so he kept it for himself.

 

“I'm worried too.” Bellamy said absentmindedly, still not meeting his eyes. Marcus sighed.

 

“There's nothing to be worried about.” he said, and asked himself if that was actually true. Bellamy was thinking the same thing, because he flashed him a doubtful look, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

 

“I don't know who that woman is, I just know what Octavia told me...” he leaned over the glass table, tilting his head so he could look him properly in the eyes. “I don't want the details, I get it, it's part of the past, and there is where you want her to stay.” he nodded, in his eyes Marcus could see that he actually felt his reasons.

 

“But Octavia isn't me, nor you, she isn't like us.” he smiled softly, his eyes traveling fast toward the stairs that leaded to her room. “She's emotional, passionate, and she is sixteen, obviously she wants to talk about it, she wants to know.” he was smiling softly now, love shimmering in his dark eyes.

 

“I know.” Marcus murmured, feeling a warm wave of affection running through him, waking up his soft side, the one that wanted to go upstairs, hug her and kiss her on the forehead, as he had always been used to do when she was ten, and had nightmares.

 

Now she didn't allow him that kind of physical affection, not that they never hugged or kissed, but it was different. Now she was _making him a favor_ whenever she allowed him to get closer. Marcus missed that little girl, always in search for some contact, for a hug or a soft kiss. But he got it, _it's just how teens roll._

 

“I'm sorry for what happened.” Bellamy said, interrupting his thoughts. “I will apologize to Abby.” he added, nodding to himself and standing up. “Maybe you should invite her over for dinner, you know?” he said, at that Marcus widened his eyes in surprise.

 

“Invite her over?” his voice rough. Bellamy nodded, he seemed serious.

 

“Yeah. Like that maybe she can give Octavia the answers she so desperately wants.” he said, shrugging slightly before walking away. “Think about it.” he said, before climbing the stairs and disappearing upstairs.

 

As soon as Marcus found himself alone, he sighed and ran a hand in his hair, pondering about Bellamy's last words.

 

_Maybe you should invite her over._

 

Marcus didn't know what to do with that sort of weird _invitation_ he had just made. Did he want to meet her? Was Octavia ok with that? Did they want to talk to her? Was it just curiosity or they were really worried? Was he acting that differently since she had appeared?

 

He didn't know what to do with all the questions that filled his mind right now, so he simply stood up and decided to think about it later. Now he could use a hot shower and then he could make lunch for the three of them.

 

He was hoping a good meal was going to convince Octavia to come his way, they had to get closer again.

 

_He missed his little one._

… _._

 

Abby didn't really know what she had been thinking when she had decided to come back to her old house. The key she had brought with her had never really left her bag. She had always kept it close.

 

It was there when she had entered her room in the Harvard's campus for the first time. When she and Jake had bought their house, it was secured in the same bunch of keys, along with the ones of her office at the hospital, the ones for the garage and the tiny one for their blue mail box.

 

It had kept her company all her life, miles far away from home, it had followed her everywhere, hanging at the side of her door, or laying in the bottom of her bag. When she had found herself in front of Marcus' place five days ago, she had peeked at that blue house that held so many memories.

 

Going back in wasn't in her plans, she had flashed it one last glance before climbing off of her car and heading toward Marcus' door. Then she had simply ignored it, and had walked away. Eventually something had happened, she didn't know exactly what, but that morning her feet had started walking her toward her old neighborhood, and when she had found herself few meters from Marcus' home, she had stopped.

 

She knew she couldn't go and knock, not again. She didn't want to intrude into another one of his peaceful family days. She knew that it had to be him, she had done her part, now she could just wait. So she had found herself holding that old key in her hand again.

 

Feeling its cold weight in the palm of her hand, seeing it shine in the morning sun, had woken up a sense of belonging into her. So she had opened the door, and had stepped inside the darkness that was filling up the rooms. The air smelled as wood and dust, and even if it had been a lifetime since the last time she had been there, she recognized immediately the soft smell her old house still held.

 

She closed her eyes into the dark, and simply lingered into that moment, inhaling deeply into the smell of dust covering the shelves and the furniture, enjoying the nostalgic feeling that had started to wash over her. It took her a couple of minutes to open her eyes again and wipe away a tear that had started rolling down her cheek.

 

Then she had started walking in the dark, her feet still recalled every step she had to take to not crash onto something. She walked with confidence to the switch, and then light enveloped the room. It was then that her heart started singing a melancholy melody, a melody that felt like home and regrets, memories and stories from her past.

 

When she had started opening up the windows, the sweet morning air invaded the rooms, giving life to the wooden walls and floors, that kept cracking under her weight with every step she took. She had just started working on the table garden and her mother's chair when Marcus had appeared.

 

It had felt so surreal, and yet so comforting. Obviously she had hoped to attract his attention, and she had almost prayed that he would show up. When he did, she had still felt surprised, but also relieved, extremely relieved.

 

Now she was alone, walking in silence room to room, her fingers dancing from a furniture to the other. There weren't many tangible memories left there, her parents had brought everything with them when they had moved to New York.

 

There were few blankets and pillows, some old paintings that had been too big to carry them with the rest, and that in the end had been left behind. Her old room was still as she remembered it, the bed, the wardrobe, the desk, the nightstand and the chandelier. The window overlooking Marcus' garden, the white curtains currently bathed in the sunlight, still danced with the wind in the same way.

 

She sat down over her old mattress, and looked at the tip of the tree visible from the that angle. The leaves were shivering and trembling in the soft spring breeze, some birds were chirping somewhere she couldn't see. A couple of clouds were painted over the blue clear sky, and Abby felt suddenly peaceful.

 

It had been so long since she had felt that good, simply fine, no heavy emotion hovering upon her heart, no tears prickling at her eyes, she was just _fine._ The power those walls still held was almost overwhelming. Her heart felt comfortable there, in that empty room, no sign of her passage was visible, and yet she still felt as if nothing had changed.

 

For a moment everything was still there, her favorite pair of pants hanging from the chair, her books scattered over the desk under the window. Her blue pillows and blankets were still draped over the bed, there were posters and pictures hanging from the walls, memories she had been collecting for years. From a picture of her friends, to a beautiful Italian landscape.

 

Everything was as she had left it twenty years ago. Then she blinked, and the walls were naked, the bed was just a mattress, the desk was empty, no clothes filled the wardrobe, nothing was there.

 

_And yet everything still was._

 

_***_

 

_**June 20, 1998** _

 

 

“Are you sure you have everything you need?” her mother asked quietly, standing in the doorway, her almond brown eyes were stroking her figure, creating a memory of her daughter, bathed in that beautiful morning light.

 

“Yes I'm sure mamma.” Abby said, zipping up her red suitcase, sighing out. Everything was ready, another couple of bags were already in the trunk of her father's car, they had everything they needed, nothing else was coming with her.

 

 _A fresh start._ She had called it. Leaving behind everything superfluous was the only way she could actually start again, focusing on her new life, side by side with the man she loved, studying to become a doctor.

 

She had started studying a long ago, and she had waited long enough to join one of the most prestigious school in the whole world. It was time to turn the page and move on with her life.

 

She secured the bag on her shoulder and turned to her mother. She was suppressing tears, she had cried a lot in the past couple of weeks. She was happy for her daughter, she really was, but she was also extremely sad at the idea of her leaving.

 

“I'm gonna come back, you know that right?” Abby whispered, approaching her slowly. Her mother smiled softly, and in her eyes Abby saw that she didn't believe her. Well, how could she blame her? She didn't believe it herself.

 

Yet, she had a feeling that one day she was actually gonna come back. She simply didn't know when.

 

“You have to call me as soon as you get there, ok?” her mother said, her voice trembling.

 

“I will.” Abby murmured, smiling and approaching her, giving her one of the hundreds of hugs they had shared in the past weeks. They had hugged so much that Abby felt almost nauseous.

 

But she knew she owed her at least that. Not that she was doing anything bad, she was just growing up, she was twenty years old, it was time to leave the nest and start living her own life. Besides, her parents were going to visit them in a couple of months, everything was going to be fine.

 

“Mamma? You gotta let me go at some point, I have a flight to take.” she whispered, and her mother nodded, but didn't let go. Years after, Abby would recall that moment with a smile over her lips, her mother's perfume still clear in her memory.

 

She smelled as jasmine flowers, almond oil and rosemary. She smelled as home, as love. What Abby didn't know in that moment, was that one day she would do her best to find those smells again. Filling her house with rich Jasmine flowers, being sure a pot with rosemary was always omnipresent in her kitchen, and a bottle of almond oil always filled to the brim in the bathroom.

 

The same bottle Clarke would brake by mistake at the age of six, causing the room to smell like almond oil for months. Abby never told anyone, but sometimes she had thought of breaking another one, when the smell had started to finally fade.

 

Abby didn't know it back then, but that moment was crystallizing itself in her memory, and would keep her company for the rest of her life.

 

“ _Ti voglio bene_.” her mother whispered, causing Abby to close her eyes and inhale deeply.

 

“I love you too.” she whispered back, squeezing her tiny frame one last time, before she could see Jake waiting for her in the hallway outside her room.

 

 _It's time,_ he mouthed. Abby nodded and withdrew, forcing her mother to do the same. When their eyes locked, she could see her reflection in her mother's tears. “I'm gonna be back mum.” she whispered, her mother stroked her cheeks and then printed a wet kiss over her forehead.

 

“Be happy sweetie.” she whispered, her lips curved into a watery smile. Abby nodded, then took her by the hand and they walked slowly down the stairs, Jake was already waiting for her at the front door.

 

When Abby stepped into the morning light, her red bag heavy on her shoulder, she turned toward the Kane's house.

 

At first she thought he wasn't gonna show up, after all they had already said goodbye, but to her surprise he was there. Standing on his mother porch, he was looking at her with steady dark eyes, his hands in the pockets of his pants, his face expressionless.

 

Abby gave Jake her bag, and then titled her head softly toward him. Jake didn't need her to say anything, he nodded and smiled, fixing her bag in the trunk, along with the rest of their stuff. Abby inhaled deeply and then walked toward Marcus.

 

He didn't move, nor made any attempt to meet her halfway, he simply stood there, observing her, his eyes sorrowful. She climbed the four stairs that separated them, and then found herself standing right at his side.

 

He was quiet, and wasn't looking at her anymore, his dark eyes fixed over Jake and her parents. Abby waited a little longer, then she closed the gap between them and, without asking for permission, printed a kiss over his cheek. Her left hand was slightly squeezing his bicep, the right one was secured on his chest, her lips lingered a little too long over his skin.

 

“Goodbye.” she whispered, without withdrawing completely, her hot breath bounced back to her. She felt him tensing under her touch, his jaw clenched, his eyes suddenly closed. She swallowed and withdrew completely, her hands hanging at her sides. “Be good.” she whispered, hoping he would look at her one last time.

 

“Abby?” Jake called after her, she turned and nodded toward him.

 

“I have to go.” she murmured, turning back at him. Marcus was staring at her now, he was holding back tears, and Abby's heart dropped heavily in her chest. “I'm sorry.” she chocked out, feeling how her own eyes were burning with incoming tears.

 

Saying goodbye to her mother had been less painful. She wasn't sure why back then, but thinking back at it years later, it was as if she already knew that she wasn't gonna see him again. Not soon at least.

 

She wanted to say something else, and wanted _him_ to say something else. For a moment, while she started walking backwards, her eyes trembling over him, she hoped he would stop her. For a moment she also _wanted_ him to stop her, grabbing her by the arm, telling her he was sorry, that it was all just a big mistake.

 

She wanted to say she was sorry, for _everything_.

 

But it lasted just a moment. As it had come, the feeling quickly dissipated, and all Abby wanted then was to go away, just as she had planned.

 

Marcus kept silent all the time, even if a tear had escaped his eyes, and was now rolling slowly down his cheek, he kept quiet. Abby smiled sadly and sniffed, wiping away her own tears, she walked rapidly toward Jake.

 

As soon as she was close enough, she crashed in his arms and hugged him tightly. He said nothing, he didn't have to. She knew he was looking at Marcus, she knew he had said his goodbyes already, she knew it was time for them to go. They lingered into that hug as long as possible, then her father rested a comforting hand over her shoulder, and forced them to break apart.

 

Right before climbing in the car though, Abby turned instinctively toward Marcus' house.

 

_But he wasn't there anymore._

 

She closed her eyes and swallowed back a bitter knot, before climbing in. Then her father started driving away, and Abby didn't look back, she held onto Jake's hand and kept her eyes fixed on the road in front of her.

 

Every house, every person, every corner, every detail of Arkadia started passing around her rapidly, fading from her memory, dissipating in a swirl of colors and shapes, until nothing was left.

 

What Abby didn't know back then, was that in the end, nothing was ever going to simply vanish. Every memory would accompany her throughout the next twenty long years of her life, and one day they would wash over her as a cold shower, waking up feelings she was currently burying deep within herself.

 

 

***

 

_**Present day** _

 

 

“I don't wanna see her.” Octavia was sitting over her bed, her legs and arms crossed, she was pursing her lips, her green eyes focused over a book laying on her blue blanket.

 

“I don't even know if he will actually invite her over. I'm just saying... it could be a good idea.” Bellamy said, his voice soft and calm. He was trying to reason with her, but Octavia as always was stubborn, and didn't seem interested in listening.

 

“He will never do that.” she muttered, then gritted her teeth. “But even if he will, I don't want to see her.” she growled, looking up at him again. Bellamy sighed out.

 

“You aren't making this any easier O.” he said, and his sister snorted.

 

“I'm not the problem here Bell.” she said, standing up from the bed, starting to move around her room, looking for something she could busy herself with.

 

“I haven't said that.” Bellamy huffed, standing up himself, crossing his arms and leaning over her desk. She raised an accusatory eyebrow at him. “I haven't said that.” he repeated himself. His sister rolled her eyes, and started folding some clean clothes that were scattered over a chair.

 

“It's not a problem though, he will not invite her over, and even if he will, she will not say yes. So it's ok, there's no problem at all.” she muttered, while starting to pile up a series of black jeans that looked all the same pair.

 

“What I want to know is _if_ , in the remote case they will plan a dinner, you will behave or not.” he said, approaching her, starting to fold one of her sweaters. Octavia clenched her jaw and kept quiet, he could see she was thinking about what to say though.

 

“I don't care.” she said eventually, opening the wardrobe, putting in a pile of pants.

 

“Ok, then if she will come, will you behave? Or will you act as your usual?” he asked. Octavia turned toward him with a raised eyebrow at that.

 

“And what _my_ _usual_ would be?” she asked, raising her chin and crossing her arms.

 

“Insufferable? Moody? Childish? Stubborn as hell? Annoying? Pick one.” he said, shrugging. At his words Octavia's eyebrow flew even higher over her forehead, but then she rolled her eyes and snorted.

 

“Whatever.” she muttered, resuming her work over her shirts. Bellamy smiled, she glared at him.

 

“Don't you even dare say a single thing.” she said, pointing her index finger at him. Bellamy pursed his lips, hiding his amusement, and his _relief._ His sister wasn't maybe ok with the idea of having that woman back in their house, but _if_ she was gonna show up again, she was at least gonna try.

 

That was _progress_.

 

“I'm not moody by the way.” she whispered at some point. Bellamy turned at her, she peeked at him and shrugged. “I'm not.” she said again. Bellamy huffed a chuckle and shook his head, but kept quiet. When Octavia giggled softly, he leaned over and printed a kiss over her forehead.

 

“It's gonna be ok.” he whispered at her, she didn't say anything back, but nodded slightly.

 

_They were gonna be ok._

….

 

 

 

 

 

> _We will arrive at Burlington around 10._
> 
>  
> 
> **Be sure to be there on time Abby!**
> 
>  
> 
> _**I will Raven, don't worry.** _
> 
>  
> 
> **Not worrying for you? Yeah sure.**
> 
>  
> 
> _Let it drop Raven._
> 
>  
> 
> **Look who's talking!**
> 
>  
> 
> _**I promise I will be there on time!** _
> 
>  
> 
> _We know mum._
> 
>  
> 
> **Hey talk for yourself. I know nothing until I'll actually see you Abby, just so we're clear.**
> 
>  
> 
> _For the love of God..._
> 
>  
> 
> _**Then you'll know tomorrow morning, cause I will be there!** _
> 
>  
> 
> **You better be!**
> 
>  
> 
> _Ok then, see you tomorrow mum! Love you._
> 
>  
> 
> _**I love you too, both of you.** _
> 
>  
> 
> **Of course you do, I'm awesome.**

 

 

Abby smiled softly to herself, putting down the phone on the kitchen counter. She had taken her things from the hotel room that afternoon, and was currently cooking the few things she had bought herself for dinner.

 

The house was old, and had taken her a little while to get everything in function again, but luckily for her nothing seemed broken. She took a sip from her glass of red wine, while circling a spoon in the tomato sauce she was cooking.

 

She was going to have pasta that night, because it had been the first thing she had thought of. Her mother's old recipes were still engraved in her memory, she had picked one of the easiest she could come up with. It was still delicious, Clarke and Raven loved it.

 

The fact that it had always been Jake's favorite made her heart tremble slightly in her chest, but it wasn't a bad feeling, she was managing it pretty well, and for that she was glad and also felt proud. She was getting better at this, and it was liberating.

 

The sauce was quietly boiling in the pot, the wine was flowing warmly in her veins, the sun was setting behind the mountains, the air smelled as flowers and the neighborhood was quiet. Abby felt at peace, even the thought of Clarke and Raven coming over the next morning didn't scare her, on the contrary, she felt as if it was meant to be, as if they had to come here, at least once in their lives.

 

She was smiling with herself, leaning her head to the side, the glass of wine secured in her hand, and was listening to the tomato sauce gurgling on the cooker, when he decided to make his presence noticed.

 

“That smells good.” she would recognize his voice everywhere.

 

“Of course it does, it's one of my mother's recipes.” she murmured, without turning yet, keeping her eyes closed. She could picture him leaning against the fence, in his garden, looking at her with his head tilted to the side, a soft smile grazing his lips.

 

“Oh god, I remember those.” he whispered, and Abby chuckled softly.

 

“I bet you do.” she said, turning her head just a bit, so she could peek at him. He was indeed tilting his head, the soft evening breeze caressing his thick hair, his eyes curious, his smile soft. He looked so different from the man that had opened his door in shock that same Monday.

 

“Are you gonna sleep here tonight then?” he asked her, adjusting one of his arms over the fence. Abby hummed, taking a sip of wine, letting it flow freely down her throat. The sudden warmth that spread in the pit of her stomach made her head feel lighter.

 

“It's gonna be weird?” she asked, leaning over the window, her elbows inside the kitchen, her hands holding the glass of wine right in the void over the garden.

 

“Isn't it already?” he asked, and he didn't mean it to sound accusatory, nor bad. In fact it didn't sound bad at all, it was just a matter of fact. It was weird, it was really weird.

 

“Cheers to that.” Abby said, smirking quickly and drawing a chuckle from him. The glass met her lips and she swallowed rapidly, licking her lips when the wine started spreading into her veins. Marcus was quiet now, it seemed as if there was something he wanted to say, but didn't know how to.

 

“What is it?” she asked, tilting her head, frowning slightly. Marcus started shaking his head softly, then ran a hand into his black hair. His fingers dived softly into his locks, and she found herself daydreaming of doing the same, they looked so inviting.

 

_Ok stop right there._

 

“I talked to them.” Marcus said, he didn't need to specify who _them_ were. Abby nodded.

 

“Are you ok?” she asked, and Marcus smiled softly at her question, nodding.

 

“I am.” he whispered, then leaned all of his weight over the fence, crossing his arms over it. “They also suggested a possible... _solution._ ” he said, not quiet meeting her gaze now.

 

“Oh.” Abby said, taking another long sip of wine. The glass was almost empty, her stomach was warm, she suddenly wanted a refill.

 

_Slow down tiger._

 

“Yeah.” Marcus said thickly. He was playing with something at his feet, it seemed as if he was suddenly nervous, and was trying to find something to distract himself. Abby felt suddenly really curious.

 

“So? What did they suggest?” she asked him, while taking the bottle of wine and refilling her glass almost to the brim, saying to herself that she was going to throw half of it anyway.

 

“Well...” Marcus pursed his lips and inhaled deeply, increasing her curiosity even further. “They said that you could come over for dinner.” he said, looking at everything but her. Abby was still holding the bottle in her hand, and froze, blinking in his direction.

 

“Oh.” she softly said, putting down the bottle and taking a long sip.

 

“And I am thinking that _maybe_ is not a bad idea.” he added quietly.

 

“Oh.” she said again, her cheeks suddenly warm, and she wasn't sure it had anything to do with the wine currently flowing in her veins.

 

“Yeah...” Marcus breathed out. “I mean, if that's ok with you of course.” he added, clearing his throat. He was softly kicking the fence now, gripping at it, just as a kid that doesn't know how to keep himself busy while waiting for an answer to a _big_ question.

 

“I see.” Abby murmured, her eyes fixed on a random spot in his garden, she kept sipping her wine absentmindedly, and without even realizing it, half of it was gone.

 

“Abby?” Marcus said suddenly. She hummed and blinked in his direction, he was tilting his head, waiting for her to say something.

 

“Yeah?” she whispered, not quiet sure her brain was functioning at the moment.

 

“What do you think?” he asked in a murmur. Abby didn't know what to say, Marcus was finally reaching out to her, as she had hoped he would do, and she didn't know what to say.

 

_Great._

 

“I...” she took a moment, and licked her lips, lost in thoughts. “I think...” again she fell silent, her brain working slower than usual, she felt extremely stupid. Marcus was quiet though, and he seemed to be holding his breath, waiting for an answer. Abby started nodding, “I think we could arrange that, yeah, sure.” she said, taking a look at her glass, swallowing down the rest of it in one gulp.

 

_The hell with moderation._

 

“Oh.” Marcus said, blinking his eyes in what looked like shocked surprise. Then his lips turned quickly into a smile. “Good.” he said, Abby hummed, swallowing down the warm red wine, feeling it burning the tip of her tongue.

 

“Yeah.” she said roughly, clearing her throat, her tongue suddenly felt numb and heavy between her lips.

 

“Ok then, so... what do you think of tomorrow? Could it be ok with you?” he asked, shoving his hands in the pockets of his pants. Abby was already nodding, she didn't need to think about it.

 

“It sounds perfect.” she said, even too cheerfully than intended. The wine was already kicking in, she had always been slim and hadn't eaten that much for lunch, her head was already light and her muscles were softening under her skin.

 

“Good.” Marcus said, and then smiled, starting to withdraw from the fence. “Then I guess I'll see you tomorrow.” he said, Abby was still nodding randomly, feeling _really_ stupid. When Marcus waved her a goodbye, Abby waved back.

 

She knew there was something she was forgetting, there was something she wasn't thinking about. But then Marcus had disappeared inside of his house, the promise to see each other again tomorrow felt too good to be true, and Abby sighed with herself, inhaling deeply into the fresh evening air.

 

When she turned the cooker off to let the sauce rest, and started boiling up some water for the pasta, her phone buzzed. She took it and read the message on the display out loud.

 

“Remember, we will be there at 10, don't be late.” she murmured, then nodded and smiled, typing her answer rapidly. Once the message was sent, she put the phone down again and started staring at the water that was already steaming.

 

Then was when her brain made the connection and she widened her eyes. “Oh shit.” she cursed under her breath. Clarke and Raven were going to be there tomorrow, and she had just accepted an invitation from Marcus and his family.

 

That left her with two possibilities: Not go or go but taking them with her.

 

_Oh shit indeed._

 


	7. The Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She didn't usually run in cars, for obvious reasons, but right now her brain could think just about the fact that it was already 9:18, according to her clock, Clarke and Raven were gonna land at 10, and it took at least one hour in the good days to get from Arkadia to Burlington.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY it took so much for me to post this, but HEY GUESS WHAT? It's more than 18000 words long so I think we can call it even... I hope so at least. Also, Chapter 8 is already writing itself in my brain, it will not take me that long to post it (hopefully) As always I LOVE YOU ALL for the comments and the kudos, hope you will leave some more under this one too! Now read and enjoy (and please don't yell at me too much)

 

 

 

 

 

 

> _We picked some clothes for you too, just so you know._
> 
>  
> 
> **You can't keep on shopping for a month after all. You spoiled yourself enough young lady!**

 

Abby was still laying on the couch, eyes half closed, she had been sleeping there all night long. The bed was way more comfortable than those old cushions, but she hadn't found the strength to clean up everything in order to sleep properly.

 

Besides, she was terribly tired last night, and the wine had lulled her to sleep quiet rapidly, her empty plate forgotten into the sink, along with the empty glass, few red drops still shimmering at the bottom of it.

 

Abby woke up with a muffled groan, she had left the window in the kitchen open and now the room was cool and the sun was reflecting over the sink, casting a dance of rainbow over the wall in front of her. She lingered in her curled up position for a while, her eyes adjusting to the new day lazily, her face half hidden under the tartan blanket she had threw over her in the middle of the night.

 

When her brain started working properly again, she stirred and stretched her muscles, feeling a rush of blood running from her head to her tiptoes. She hummed and closed her eyes, yawning quietly in the silence around her. When she rubbed her hands over her foggy eyes, she licked her lips and felt how thirsty she was.

 

She stood up, not before checking if her body could handle the movement, then she tiptoed toward the sink. She filled a clean glass with fresh water and then started drinking it avidly. The fresh liquid woke up every last cell in her body, sending a shiver of new energy through her system, she hummed with herself and sighed out.

 

Then she focused her eyes in front of her, toward Marcus' house. Nobody was outside, she stretched her muscles again, then flashes of last evening came back to her. Marcus proposing a dinner at his place, she accepting the invitation, Clarke's messages.

 

_Clarke's messages._

 

Abby widened her eyes in horror and rushed toward the couch, searching for her phone with desperation. She found it under the coffee table, once she checked the time and saw it was already 9:15 her eyes widened even more, “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.” she muttered under her breath. She collected her bag from the hanger at the door, put her shoes on rapidly, almost losing her balance, and in a matter of seconds she was out.

 

She rushed rapidly toward her Tesla, climbed in and slammed the door loudly, the engine roared to life while she was still buckling up, she turned the car rapidly and pressed on the gas as hard as she could. In a matter of seconds she was leaving the neighborhood, driving as fast as her electric car allowed her to.

 

She didn't usually run in cars, for obvious reasons, but right now her brain could think just about the fact that it was already 9:18, according to her clock, Clarke and Raven were gonna land at 10, and it took at least one hour in the good days to get from Arkadia to Burlington.

 

_Fuck, fuck, fuck._

….

 

The sun was sneaking gently between the curtains, stroking the dark blankets draped over his body. Marcus opened his eyes lazily, welcoming in the daylight, his lips stretching into an instinctive smile as soon as he heard the quiet murmur of Octavia's voice coming from downstairs.

 

When he was fully awake, and sitting on the edge of his bed, he heard Bellamy laughing at something O. had said, and another smile formed over his lips. He walked to the bathroom, his heart light in his chest, beating in rhythm with his steps.

 

As soon as he stepped into the living room, his eyes traveled toward the Walters' blue house. He noticed that the kitchen window was open, and the notion made him smile. Flashes of last evening came back at him, of Abby sipping at her glass of wine while accepting his invitation. Her cheeks red, her brow furrowed, her eyes glimmering in the soft evening light.

 

He had felt so nervous, and also so shocked to be suggesting her the dinner so soon. It had felt also extremely instinctive though, he hadn't to think about it. He had found himself peeking at her while she was cooking, few meters from his house, and it had felt so familiar that the question had started forming on the tip of his tongue, even before he could decide if it was a good idea or not.

 

She had said yes, and he had to admit, his heart had started beating happily once the word had left her lips. She was going to join him and the siblings for a dinner, and maybe things would start moving toward the right direction once again.

 

After the fight with Octavia, she had kept hiding in her room for a long while, until Bellamy had joined her and they had talked for a while. Marcus had waited patiently downstairs.

 

Then the siblings had appeared again, Octavia serious and stoic. When Bellamy had nudged her on the side though, she had glared at him just briefly before shrugging and saying: “You can invite her over, it's ok.” with that she had then flashed a last look at her brother and had disappeared inside the kitchen.

 

Bellamy had nodded in silence, and had followed her, leaving Marcus alone with his thoughts.

 

_Ok then._

 

A couple of hours later, he was inviting Abby over, she was saying yes, the sun was warm while descending behind the mountains, the air was sweet and he was happy.

 

His cup of coffee was cooling on the kitchen island, while he switched his nights clothes with a pair of black pants and a cotton gray shirt. He opened his window, to let the morning air in. His eyes fell over the closed window of Abby's former room. He smiled softly to himself, and leaned his arms over the sill.

 

The tall tree in his garden was so close that he could almost touch the green rich leaves. Birds were chirping all around him, singing a discordant but amazingly beautiful melody. The neighborhood was quiet and peaceful, that Sunday morning was filled with good vibes.

 

When he heard the sound of water coming out of a sink, his eyes traveled down toward the kitchen's open window. He saw Abby, a glass filled with water in hand. She wasn't looking up at him so she didn't know he was staring.

 

She had probably just woken up, her usually perfectly tied hair was slightly messy. Long curls falling down randomly over her shoulders, the sunlight dancing over every strand. She was wearing a oversized creamy colored cardigan, one of her shoulder was left exposed. Under it she was wearing a light sleeveless shirt that was giving him a chance to see a great amount of bare skin.

 

She looked so bright in that moment, the contrast with her tanned skin and her golden hair made her almost glow. He was staring quietly, not daring to move a muscle, enjoying the view of a forty years old Abby, whom had just woken up in her old house.

 

It was a sight he had never thought he would ever get a chance to see. When she roamed her eyes over his garden, her expression was peaceful, and a soft smile was gracing her lips, she seemed comfortable and even possibly happy.

 

Then something happened, it looked like she had just remembered something important, she left the glass on the sink and rushed toward the inside of the room, disappearing. Marcus frowned with curiosity...

 

Not even twenty seconds after that, he heard the sound of her car roaring to life, and when she exited her driveway and started driving away rapidly, he asked himself what could be so important for her to leave in such a rush.

 

Then his mind decided to play with him a bit, and flashes of the last time he had seen her, twenty years prior, started knocking on the doors of his memory. He closed his eyes shut and gripped at the sill, trying to swipe them all away.

 

It helped, the images faded away before they could flash back at him. This of course meant that others came over, replacing that memory with other little pieces of his youth he hadn't thought about in a long while.

 

The first thing he saw, was Abby's old room. The window was open, it was spring and the air was warm and pleasant. He was leaning his shoulder against the side-jamb of his window, smiling softly to himself.

 

That memory held a pleasant feeling, and his heart was warming up. The reason why was sitting at her desk, while chewing at the tip of her pen, her eyes were lost into some scientific book Marcus couldn’t even look at, without feeling the beginning of a headache.

 

A beautiful Abby Walters, in her glorious sixteen years old, was the reason why he felt that good, and why that memory held such a peaceful harmony within.

 

* * *

 

 

“Stop staring, you _creep_.” she mumbled, without looking up at him. Marcus smirked, and even blushed a little, luckily she was too far away to notice, and besides, she wasn't even looking at him.

 

“Why are you letting such a beautiful day go to waste? You can take a break sometimes, you know that right?” he said, raising his voice a bit to be heard from window to window. Abby raised an eyebrow and finally met his eyes.

 

One soft curl fell over her cheek, and she adjusted it behind her ear. “You could also stop staring and give _me_ a break. Go enjoy the sun, you are way paler than me, you could use more.” she said, already smirking.

 

“Oh no, I enjoy the view from here.” he said, grinning when Abby shook her head and muttered something he couldn't quite catch.

 

“Where's Jake anyway? Weren't you supposed to go swimming or something?” she asked, finally putting her pen down and crossing her arms over the opened book on her desk. Marcus shrugged, shoving his hands in the pockets of his pants.

 

“He said he couldn't make it. He's gonna be here for dinner though, and you're invited, just so you know.” he said, tilting his head to the side.

 

“Oh is that so? I am allowed to join your boys day?” she joked, raising a curious eyebrow. Marcus chuckled softly and nodded.

 

“There's no such thing as a _boys day_.” he snorted, and at that Abby flashed him a look that seemed to say _Are you serious right now?_

 

“Oh come on, every weak you go out at least once without me. I get it you know? Boys gotta have their day off from time to time.” she said, shrugging and nodding.

 

“What? No, the reason why we go out without you is because _you_ always have too much to study.” he said, nodding when she frowned.

 

“You know, there's nothing bad at admitting you want some time for yourselves Marcus.” she said, flashing him a soft smile and raising a teasing eyebrow.

 

“What's that supposed to mean?” he asked, leaning his weight over the sill. Abby sighed out.

 

“You are really gonna make me say it?” she said, tilting her head.

 

“I seriously don't know what you mean here Abby.” he said, blinking in honest confusion. Abby nodded and smiled softly at that, smoothing invisible wrinkles from her light blue shirt.

 

“I just want you to know that I have nothing against the idea of... you know, you two _together_.” she said, clearing her throat. Marcus was frowning deeply now, his mind echoing him back just a great amount of confusion.

 

“What are you talking about?” he asked again, feeling stupid all of a sudden. Abby snorted and shook her head.

 

“Seriously?” she asked him, and Marcus could only nod. “I'm ok if you two want to make this _official_.” she said, lowering her voice to a whisper.

 

“Making _what_ official exactly?” he asked, leaning as much as he could toward her window, without falling into the void. Abby groaned.

 

“The two of you Marcus. I'm ok with you and Jake becoming an _official thing_.” she said, her tone clearly saying _Please, take the hint_. For a moment Marcus felt even more confused, if that was possible, then he widened his eyes, finally realizing what she was talking about.

 

“Wait what? No!” he snorted, shaking his head vehemently. Abby blinked and frowned. “We are definitely not a thing!” he hissed, a blush creeping on his neck. Not that he thought anything was wrong with the idea of a boy with a boy, he simply wasn't the kind of boy who wanted to be with another boy.

 

“Are you sure?” she asked suspiciously.

 

“Absolutely. Definitely.” he said, his head still nodding, as if he needed her to really understand this. Abby hummed and pondered about his words, then shrugged.

 

“Ok then I'm sorry, my bad.” she said, taking her pen in hand again, starting to play with it.

 

“Yeah, definitely your bad.” he said, and then chuckled throatily. “You really thought that him and I...?” he started asking, not quite sure he could say it without start laughing at the awkwardness of that thought.

 

“Yeah.” Abby simply stated, shrugging as if for her it was the most normal thing in the world.

 

“I'm into girls, you know that right?” he asked her, and Abby smiled softly.

 

“You can be into boys and girls at the same time Marcus.” she said.

 

“Yeah well, I'm into girls and girls, just so we're clear.” he said, raising his hands in front of him. Abby chuckled softly.

 

“Ok, good to know.” she whispered, “So, does this _Marcus Kane only into girls and girls_ , actually have a girlfriend?” she asked him, raising a curious eyebrow, propping her chin on her hands. Marcus chuckled nervously.

 

“I'm afraid not.” he said quietly, and saw the way Abby started grinning.

 

“But there's someone, isn't it?” she asked, her voice lowering ever so slightly, her eyes shimmering with curiosity.

 

“What? No.” he said, a bit too rapidly, and when she smirked, he knew she didn't believe him.

 

“Coward.” she murmured, her low voice reverberating in the perfect silence of their neighborhood.

 

“What?” he said, trying to look all but extremely embarrassed now. Because truth be told, he didn't exactly know if there was someone, or maybe he did, but he was definitely a coward and wasn't ready to admit it even to himself.

 

“I'm gonna find out who the girl is.” she said, pointing her pen at him as a warning.

 

“There's no girl Abby.” he said, managing to put a smile over his lips. Abby kept quiet and simply hummed, and he knew she still didn't believe him.

 

“Let me be the judge of that.” she said, chuckling quietly when he snorted. “Besides, you need my approval, I'm your best friend, right?” she added, smirking softly at him.

 

Marcus chuckled and her smirk grew into a wild grin. “You're impossible Abby Walters.” he said, shaking his head, a big smile over his lips.

 

“What can I say? I'm protective when it comes to the people I love.” she whispered, peeking at him through her eyelashes, a tiny smile adorning her lips.

 

* * *

 

 

_The people I love._

 

When he blinked his eyes open again, Abby was gone, and her old room was once again empty. Marcus sighed, the warmth that memory had brought him, started fading, leaving behind just a track of goosebumps all over his skin.

 

A soft knock over the door of his room fully dragged him out of his thoughts. “Come in.” he said, clearing his throat. Bellamy peeked inside.

 

“Hey, you're ok?” he asked, taking in his red cheeks and his blinking eyes.

 

“Yeah, I'm fine, just tired.” he said, and luckily Bellamy didn't question him any further.

 

“We should go downtown later.” he said, and Marcus frowned.

 

“Downtown? Why?” he asked, Bellamy tilted his head.

 

“To get the things we need for dinner? Remember you told us Abby had accepted to come over tonight?” he asked, crossing his arms and frowning slightly.

 

_Oh right._

 

“Yes, yes you're right. We should go and buy some stuff.” he said, starting to rub a hand over his beard. “Ok then, let me finish setting up a couple of things then we can go.” he said, passing him by with a smile, and walking downstairs.

 

“Ok...” Bellamy whispered, when he was already gone.

 

….

 

“Seriously woman?” Raven snapped as soon as Abby had climbed off her car.

 

“I know, I know, I'm terribly sorry.” she started saying, taking off the sunglasses she had found on her passenger seat. She had took a quick look at herself in the mirror, and her tired face had been quiet a shock, the sunglasses weren't gonna cover up everything, but they could at least help a bit.

 

Raven was clenching her jaw, her arms crossed, shaking her head to the sides. “Where's Clarke?” Abby asked immediately, noticing her daughter’s absence.

 

“Oh thanks, I'm happy to see you too Abby.” Raven huffed.

 

“Oh honey, don't be like that.” Abby said, invading the girl's personal space and wrapping her arms around her without asking for permission. “I've missed you too you know?” she whispered in the girl's thick black hair.

 

“I bet you did.” the girl muttered, without returning the hug.

 

“You know I can do this all day long Raven.” Abby warned her, and at that the girl gave up with a snort and wrapped her arms around her. “ _Attagirl_.” Abby murmured, chuckling softly when the girl snorted even louder.

 

“Oh, that's quite a cute view.” a soft rough voice said suddenly from Raven's back. Abby knew it was Clarke without even looking, she would recognize her voice everywhere. She withdrew from Raven and then flashed the brightest of smiles at her daughter, whom was looking at her with a cocky grin over her lips.

 

“Hey mum.” she whispered, already opening her arms to welcome in the hug she knew her mother was going to give her.

 

“Clarke.” Abby choked out, feeling the way her heart had started swinging in her chest. It had been two months since the last time they had seen each other, and finally having her again between her arms felt as regaining a piece of her heart that had been missing since her departure.

 

“Mum? I can't breath.” Clarke mumbled at some point, when Abby had started squeezing her too tightly.

 

“Sorry honey.” she whispered, withdrawing without letting her go yet. Her daughter was smiling, and Abby knew she had tears in her eyes, she could feel their warmth.

 

“Don't you dare.” Clarke muttered, when she noticed the same. Abby nodded, and sniffed them back, clearing her throat.

 

“I'm lucky you have seen me just a week ago, I would never survive such an amount of physical contact.” Raven muttered suddenly, causing both the Griffin women to chuckle softly.

 

“Oh stop it, you're just jealous.” Clarke said, smirking deeply when the young mechanic rolled her eyes.

 

“I can hug you again if you want.” Abby said, a teasing smirk coloring her voice. Raven shook her head vehemently and started walking toward the car without looking back.

 

“Come on, let's go! We're already late, thanks to _someone._ ” the young girl said, shoving her bag in the trunk. Abby smiled softly at the sight of Raven and her daughter bickering about who got to sit in the front of the car, and allowed herself to linger into the feeling that view was giving her.

 

“Mum?” Clarke called after her at some point, she had won the argument and was gonna sit at her side. Abby blinked and hummed.

 

“Yeah, sorry.” she murmured, flashing her daughter a smile.

 

“Come on Abby!” Raven yelled from the backseat.

 

“Buckle up ladies.” Abby said, climbing inside the car and starting driving away from the airport.

 

….

 

“So what took you so long?” Raven said, after a couple of minutes the three of them had shared in complete silence.

 

“Oh I just overslept.” Abby said, shrugging slightly.

 

“ _You_ overslept?” Clarke asked, raising an almost shocked eyebrow.

 

“Yeah.” Abby said nonchalantly. “What?” she said, when she noticed the skeptical looks the two girls were flashing at her.

 

“Nothing.” they both murmured in unison.

 

“So, this Arkadia... what should we expect?” Raven asked, propping her chin on Abby's seat, she was sitting right in the middle, so she could look at the both of them while talking.

 

“Well nothing in particular I'm afraid. Little town, few people, not that much to see.” Abby murmured, her eyes careful over the road ahead of them.

 

“Sounds fun.” Raven said, leaning back again on her seat. Clarke flashed at her a sympathetic look and smiled.

 

“I'm sure there must be something you would like us to see, apart for the house of course.” her daughter said, laying a comforting hand over her mother's shoulder. Abby smiled quickly.

 

“I don't know if we will have the time, but maybe we'll find something.” Abby said, sharing a long look with her. Clarke's bright blue eyes were soft, calm and reassuring.

 

“Sure.” she whispered, taking back her hand. Abby felt the way her skin prickled at the loss of contact.

 

“What happened to your hair though?” Raven said suddenly, breaking the silence that had grew in the car once again. Abby remembered just then the state she was when she had rushed outside the house.

 

“Oh this?” she sighed out, taking a brief look at herself in the visor mirror. “I call it _overslept look,_ why? It doesn't suit me?” she joked, turning toward her when they stopped at a red light.

 

Raven raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips. “I think even a potato sack would suit you Abby. But probably you should brush... _that thing_.” she said, pointing to her hair, nodding with herself. Abby raised an eyebrow at her and Clarke giggled.

 

“A potato sack...” Abby mouthed to her daughter, once the light was green and traffic started moving again. She giggled and Abby smiled deeply, before fixing her eyes on the road again.

 

“I've missed you.” Clarke whispered, her head leaned on her headrest. Abby flashed her a brief look and smiled fondly.

 

“I've missed you too baby.” she whispered back, squeezing her hand, feeling her heart growing three sizes in her chest.

 

Neither of them noticed the way Raven smiled softly from the backseat, swallowing and averting her gaze, focusing her attention over the landscape swirling outside of the car.

 

….

 

Half an hour later, Abby was parking the Tesla in front of her childhood house. She climbed off with a bright smile on her lips, she was extremely happy, her heart filled to the brim with love and affection. Clarke and Raven were still inside when Marcus noticed her.

 

“Hey Abby, is everything alright?” he asked, a bag with some grocery shopping in hand. Abby was opening the trunk of her car and hadn't seen him doing the same, Bellamy and Octavia at his back, arguing about who could carry more bags at the same time.

 

“Hey Marcus...” she breathed out, blinking in his direction. He was frowning, but as soon as their eyes locked, he offered her a kind smile.

 

“I saw you leaving in a hurry this morning, I thought something had happened. Is everything ok? Is _Clarke_ ok?” he asked, without giving her the time to say anything. He sounded genuinely worried, and the thought made Abby's heart grew another size.

 

“I'm quiet alright.” said Clarke suddenly.

 

_Oh, she was there, right._

 

Marcus blinked in her direction, even the siblings had stopped bickering and were now looking with curious eyes toward the new girl. “Oh my god....” he whispered, widening his eyes just as much as Clarke was squinting hers.

 

“Hey, what's going on here?” Raven said, climbing off herself, raising a curious eyebrow toward the stranger that was currently _gaping_ in front of them. “What's wrong with him?” she hissed to Abby, when nobody talked.

 

_Great timing._

 

“Oh my god.” Marcus said again, his arms swinging at his sides, the grocery bag threatening to fall on the ground. Clarke closed the car door at her back and crossed her arms, Raven nudged Abby on the side.

 

“You're ok?” she whispered, noticing the way she was looking with wide eyes back and forth between the two of them.

 

“Oh, I'm sorry Clarke.” Marcus said suddenly, leaving the bag on the grass, walking around the fence, so he could join them in their driveway. “It's just that...” his eyes were roaming avidly over Clarke's features, his lips forming a surprised smile.

 

“Do we know each other?” Clarke asked, her eyes searching for her mother's help. Marcus started shaking his head and then he cleared his throat, realizing he was acting quiet awkwardly.

 

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. I'm Marcus Kane.” he said, offering her his hand. Clarke was still frowning, but she took his hand and nodded slowly.

 

“Clarke Griffin... but I guess you already knew that.” she said, and when Marcus chuckled throatily, a quick smile appeared on her lips.

 

“He was your father's best friend honey.” Abby said, coming back to her senses and finding the courage to introduce them to each other.

 

“Oh...” Clarke said, her eyes widening, her lips parting in surprise. “I had no idea, oh, nice to meet you then.” she said, this time a genuine and bright smile blossomed over her lips. Abby couldn't help it and smiled herself.

 

Clarke had always been so easy with people she didn't know, it was another trait she had inherited from Jake. Abby on her side had to learn how to behave politely and with kindness, due to her job as a Doctor. To Jake and Clarke though, it had always been like second nature.

 

“Yeah, I knew your father very well.” Marcus said, they were still holding hands, and he realized it at the same time as Clarke did. They both withdrew and smiled awkwardly at each other. Abby didn't know what to say, finally witnessing this moment was causing her to feel so many things all together, that she was feeling dizzy.

 

“I'm Raven by the way, if you were wondering.” Raven said suddenly, breaking the silence, startling all of them. Abby turned toward her with wide eyes. The young mechanic was raising an eyebrow and her lips were pursed. Clarke threw an admonishing look at her, but Raven was staring at Marcus and purposefully ignored her.

 

“Oh, hi.” he said, offering her his hand. Abby shifted so he could reach her without bumping into her, and Clarke took advantage of that, pulling her closer by the hem of her shirt.

 

“Later.” Abby murmured softly, preceding her daughter's incoming questions. Luckily, Clarke took the hint and kept quiet.

 

“I'm Marcus.” he said to Raven, whom still hadn't taken his hand.

 

“Yeah, I've heard.” she said, finally giving in and returning the gesture. They held hands briefly and she break the contact rapidly, crossing her arms. “I'm not a secret daughter by the way, in case you were wondering that too.” she said, her usual smirk printed in the corner of her lips.

 

“Oh, good to know...” Marcus said, frowning in confusion. Abby rolled her eyes and cleared her throat. Marcus turned to her, she flashed him a quick smile.

 

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” she said to him, Clarke and Raven were already parting their lips, ready to protest, but she flashed them both a stern look and they swallowed back their next retort. Then she tilted her head to the backyard, and Marcus took the hint, following her.

 

“It's been a pleasure.” he said to the both of them, before Abby pulled him by the arm without warning and forced him to follow her. “Hey, what is it?” he hissed to her as soon as they were far away enough to not be heard.

 

“Sorry.” Abby mumbled, realizing she was still holding him by the arm. Marcus said nothing and took his arm back, resting his hands over his hips.

 

“So?” he asked in a whisper. Abby looked up at him and licked at her lips.

 

“I completely forgot they were coming over today.” she started to say. “I mean actually I didn't know, they told me yesterday, then was when I didn't know, when you asked me to come over for dinner I knew, but I had completely forgot about it.” she was walking in circle now, her words rolling down her tongue rapidly, Marcus kept listening at her confused mumbling. “But it wasn't planned, just as everything else wasn't planned. Even coming here wasn't in my plans, not that I had any plan really.” _yes,_ she was losing the point.

 

“I mean who the hell drives six hours to come into a place she hadn't been in for twenty years, right? It's insane! They thought I had a breakdown or something, you know? Like a middle-aged crisis... but that's mostly a male kind of thing, women goes through that in menopause. I'm forty, I'm too young for that.” she was _definitely_ talking nonsense now.

 

Marcus expression had changed, he was suppressing a smirk now, and didn't seem interested in interrupting her at all. “But that's not the point. The point here is that I can't come to dinner tonight.” she stopped in her tracks at that and looked at him, shaking her head. “I'm sorry, I really am, believe me.” she said, approaching him.

 

Marcus was quiet, looking at her without showing off any kind of emotion. Abby waited for him to say something, then he smiled softly. “It's ok.” he simply whispered, Abby blinked.

 

“What?” she had to admit that she was having a hard time right now, her brain wasn't functioning properly, and she was quiet sure she looked a mess, with her untangled hair and sleepy eyes, not to mention the delirious speech she had just threw at him. Marcus smiled again and nodded.

 

“It's ok. You don't have to worry, we can have dinner another time.” he said, and his smile turned sadder for a second, his dark eyes softening over her features. “If you still want to of course.” he murmured quietly.

 

“I do.” Abby said without thinking, nodding rapidly. “I mean...” she cleared her throat, noticing the way Marcus' lips were already turning into a smug grin. “I would like to join you and your kids for dinner... at some point.” she said, crossing her arms and stiffening her back. Trying to not sound _that_ desperate.

 

“Good.” Marcus simply said, and _oh_ wasn't he enjoying seeing her like this right now?

 

“Ok stop that.” she admonished him.

 

“What?” he said, shrugging, as if he didn't know what she was talking about.

 

“You know what.” she murmured, shaking her head when he chuckled softly. “Stop!” she reproached him again, then started walking back to the others. Marcus followed her in silence, a cocky smirk still printed over his lips.

 

….

 

The first thing Marcus noticed, was that Octavia and Bellamy had approached Abby's daughter and the young sassy girl named Raven. They were talking quietly, and at first the sight made him smile. It was a pretty view.

 

The second thing he noticed, was the way Abby tensed as soon as her daughter fixed her gaze over her. She stopped in her tracks and parted her lips, as if exchanging some kind of unspoken conversation with her.

 

The third thing he noticed, was the way Octavia was looking at him, a deep smirk engraved on her lips, her eyes glimmering with an amused light.

 

_What was going on?_

 

“So, I've heard you had plans for tonight.” Clarke said, her arms crossed, her head tilted to the side. Abby blinked her eyes toward Bellamy and Octavia, then back at her daughter. She flashed her a bright smile.

 

“Yeah, I did.” she said, exchanging a quick look with him.

 

_Now what?_

 

_I don't know?_

 

“We just invited them over.” Octavia said, clearing things up for everybody. Marcus widened his eyes at her, she was still smirking. “We have enough food for everybody, we thought it was a great idea.” she concluded, flashing Marcus a look that seemed to say _Yes I did it._ And _No, it's not up to discussion._

 

“Oh, no, there's no need really.” Abby started to say, avoiding her daughter's eyes.

 

“Why not?” Clarke said, looking at her mother with quizzical eyes. Abby fell quiet.

 

“You are probably tired, and would like to spend some time alone with your mother...” Marcus said instinctively, trying to help Abby out as best as he could. “With Abby.” he corrected himself, when his eyes landed over Raven, that was observing them in silence.

 

“That's very kind of you Marcus.” Clarke said, flashing him a polite smile. “But we would love to join you for dinner.” she added, looking at her mother again. Abby was blinking in complete silence.

 

“You're ok Abby?” Raven asked, shoving her hands in the pockets of her jacket, tilting her head to the side, her black ponytail bouncing over her shoulders.

 

“I'm fine. Yeah.” she managed to say.

 

“Ok then.” Clarke said, turning to Octavia. “We'll be at your place at seven, sounds good?” she asked her, even if it seemed like they had already arranged everything. Octavia nodded and smiled.

 

“Sure.” she said, before turning on her heels and walking inside the house, Bellamy followed her in silence.

 

“We should get ready mum.” Clarke added, before walking back to Abby's car.

 

“I guess we're doing this then.” Abby said eventually, Marcus hummed, his eyes focused over Clarke, whom was currently whispering something into Raven's ear.

 

“I guess they set us up.” he murmured, Abby scoffed and sighed out.

 

“I can't believe it.” she hissed, more to herself than to him.

 

“We were going to have dinner anyway Abby, it's not a big deal.” he said, stepping in front of her. She looked up at him, her eyebrow raised.

 

“It's not gonna be awkward? To have my kid and your kids together? In the same house?” she asked him rhetorically. Marcus pursed his lips and then shrugged.

 

“Who knows? Maybe everything will turn out perfectly fine.” he said, he was trying to convince her just as much as he was trying to convince himself. Abby shook her head doubtfully, but offered him a quick smile.

 

“I guess I'll see you later then.” she said, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

 

“Yeah.” he whispered.

 

“Abby? Would you mind help us?” Raven yelled from the trunk, interrupting the moment.

 

“Coming.” she said, without averting her eyes from him. “I gotta go.” she whispered, smirking slightly. Marcus shifted so she could walk away, and kept his eyes on her, while she walked toward her car.

 

“We need to talk woman, you can't assume I'll do all the work, cause just so you know, I will not.” Raven started saying, causing Abby to chuckle softly.

 

When they started rummaging in the trunk, quietly talking with each other, Marcus shoved his hands in his pockets and walked back to his house. The last thing he heard before closing the front door, was Abby's laughter.

 

 

….

 

 

“We should clean up a bit the rooms, so you can set up and sleep into real beds.” Abby said, while leaving Clarke's _extremely_ heavy bag onto the floor of the living room. “We also should start planning how we are gonna fix the place before putting it on the market.” It was then that Abby realized nobody was listening to her.

 

Clarke and Raven were staring at her with their brow furrowed, not speaking a word. Abby stopped talking and blinked in their direction. “What?” she asked, crossing her arms and tilting her head. The girls shared a look, then her daughter stepped forward, her expression puzzled.

 

“What's up with that man mum?” she asked quietly. Abby frowned, and squeezed her arms tightly around herself.

 

“What do you mean? Nothing is up with him.” she said, shaking her head, as to make her point very clear. Clarke licked her lips.

 

“Why haven't you mentioned that _Dad's_ old friend was living next door?” she asked, pointing her index finger toward the window that overlooked Marcus' house. Abby bit at the inside of her cheek, her eyes shifting awkwardly between her daughter and Raven, whom was looking at her suspiciously, but was keeping quiet, _for now_.

 

“I don't know. No reason, he's just an old friend after all.” Abby said, shrugging, trying to sell her lie as best as she could. Truth be told, she knew very well why she hadn't said a word about him to her. She still felt ashamed, and Marcus was probably the most delicate topic of her childhood. And she also had no idea where to start with him, so it had always been better to just keep quiet.

 

Surely now was getting harder, since they were having dinner that same night, all together.

 

“Why haven't you told him that we were coming?” Raven asked suddenly, stepping forward herself, sneaking into the conversation. Clarke said nothing, and kept her heavy stare on her mother.

 

“It slipped my mind ok? It's... it's been hard lately, and coming back here...” she looked at her surroundings, the quiet kitchen, the naked shelves, the dust covering the couch, the table, every inch of that home was a dormant memory of her past, waiting for the right moment to be awakened again.

 

“Who's that man mum?” Clarke interrupted her thoughts, forcing her to look her back in the eyes. “Why you never mentioned him before? Even dad never mentioned him.” Clarke had a point here, Abby knew she was smart and she could get the answer by herself. But Abby also knew that her daughter wanted _her_ to explain, she wanted to hear it come from her lips, and Abby knew she was going to be forced to do so sooner or later.

 

“I'm sorry honey.” Abby whispered, her arms fell heavily at her sides, she huffed and leaned against the kitchen table at her back, her hands gripping at the light wood. “I simply never felt the need to talk about him.” she was shaking her head now, remembering all the times she and Jake had discussed about this, about what to say to their daughter about the place they came from.

 

He had always thought it was a good idea to share just the truth, Marcus had been a big part of their lives after all, and keeping that hidden was simply pointless. What Jake didn't know was what had actually pushed Abby to leave Arkadia, and why she wanted to leave Marcus behind too. Eventually he had just stopped trying to convince her, and they had told Clarke all bout Arkadia, their families and memories that belonged to them as a couple... but Marcus had always been left out of the picture.

 

Thinking about it now, Abby had to admit, it had been pretty stupid to do so. Also extremely unfair.

 

“He's just an old friend.” Abby said again, looking Clarke straight in the eyes, hopeful that she would take the hint. After a quiet moment, she nodded and smiled.

 

“Ok then.” she said, taking her bag and approaching the stairs that leaded to the bedrooms. “We should get ready for tonight, maybe even go and see the town if we have time.” she added. Abby nodded quietly, then Clarke started climbing the stairs, her footsteps turning from loud and clear to muffled, when she entered Abby's old room.

 

“You shouldn't lie to her Abby.” Raven said, almost startling her, she had been so quiet that Abby had almost forgot she was still there, looking at her with worried eyes.

 

“I'm not lying.” she said, printing a smile over her lips. Raven shook her head and sighed out, approaching her.

 

“You can tell yourself that if it makes you feel better.” she smiled sadly, then shrugged, “But sooner than later, you will have to be honest with her... and with yourself.” she added, before following Clarke, disappearing upstairs.

 

Abby said nothing, and was left alone with her thoughts. She sighed and rubbed her hands over her face, shutting out the rest of the world for a moment, focusing on herself only.

 

She knew Raven was right, Clarke could tell she was lying, everyone could tell she was lying actually.

 

_Since when was she this bad at hiding her feelings?_

 

_But then again, hadn't it always been like this with him?_

 

Keeping secrets, hiding emotions... it had never worked out between the two of them. They had always been able to tell when the other was lying, that was something Abby had never had with Jake.

 

Not that he wasn't always trying to be sure she was ok, not that he didn't care... but he simply had never been as good as Marcus at reading her. Just as she had always been so good at reading him. That had always been one of the many reasons why they could turn from _best friends_ to _worst enemy ever_ in the span of two seconds.

 

Jake had always thought they were _too different_ to get along.

 

“ _Sometimes I wonder if what you two really want is kill the other, or just make out.”_ he was used to joke.

 

_Right._

 

At that time nobody could guess what was going to happen. Nobody could think that Abby would fall for one of her best friends, that she would end up marrying him, moving to another city. Those days were the good ones, the good days when everything was fine, not perfect, but fine. Then things had changed, when they had started growing up, and innocence had been replaced by _needs_ and _desires_.

 

 _Curiosity killed the cat_ , they say. That was had happened to them, curiosity had killed their friendship, for good. Curiosity for _something different_ , curiosity for _what ifs_ that they had tried to find out.

 

Some things should never be explored, some questions should never get an answer. Because at the end of the day, somebody can get hurt.

 

That was what had happened in the end between them, _they had gotten hurt_.

 

….

 

“Was that really necessary?” Marcus asked, stepping inside the kitchen. Octavia and Bellamy were emptying the grocery bags into the fridge in perfect silence.

 

“What?” Octavia asked, without looking at him, her green eyes focused over the fresh fruit she was passing to her brother.

 

“You know what. Don't play this game with me O.” Marcus said sternly. He wasn't mad, he had to admit, he was actually pretty happy that they were coming over. Seeing Clarke had been such a shock that he hadn't had the time to process what had happened. Now he felt good about the idea of meeting her for real, of talking face to face.

 

He was also extremely nervous though. The first thing he had thought when he had seen her climbing off that car had been “ _This is Jake's daughter.”_ he hadn't to think about it, it was clear as the sun. Her blue eyes, her lips, her long blonde hair. She was definitely her father's daughter.

 

Then she had frowned and had tilted her head in confusion, her manners, her gestures, everything had screamed loud and clear that she was also Abby's daughter. It was almost ridiculous how easy it was to see the both of them inside that beautiful young girl.

 

Then Abby and her nervous breakdown had happened, and he had thought their dinner was canceled for good. It made just sense, and he was pretty ok with it. Not that he hadn't felt disappointed at the idea of not having Abby for dinner, and how ironic that was? Considering how hard he had prayed she would disappear as soon as she had appeared again?

 

But then Octavia had stepped in, taking charge of the situation, and their kids had acted like... kids, and had basically set them up, deciding there was no good reason to not have dinner _all together._ Marcus had to say, that for a normal couple of adult parents, it would make a lot of sense. But they weren't a normal couple of parents, they weren't _just old friends_ , they were something more... _complicated._

 

He had seen into Abby's expression that she was _terrified_ at the idea of that dinner. He on the other hand, was nervous yes, but also extremely grateful. Because now it wasn't just a dinner with the woman whom had broken his heart... it was going to be a dinner with Jake's wife and daughter, and that was a thought that warmed up his heart, especially since Jake was gone.

 

He couldn't get those years back, he couldn't get _him_ back. But at least now he could get a part of him, he could look her in the eyes, hear her laugh, and get to know someone that to Jake had meant the world.

 

There was no hate or regret in his heart at the thought, just an incredibly great amount of affection.

 

“I was just being polite _dad_ , as you thought me to always be.” Octavia said, smiling at him coldly. Marcus sighed out and bowed his head.

 

“It wasn't supposed to go like that.” he said. _Again,_ he wasn't mad, but Abby had seemed extremely stressed, and he didn't want to force anything on her, even if it was a bit too late for that now, he had to _play_ his father's part, and admonish his daughter about her behavior.

 

 _Pointless?_ Probably yes. But _necessary_.

 

“Why? What's the matter? We were supposed to meet your old friend... now we are gonna meet even her daughter and her friend... I think that's progress.” she said, nodding with herself. Bellamy closed the fridge with a sigh.

 

“It's no big deal dad. We are gonna have a pleasant dinner, we are gonna be _polite_ ,” - he said, looking at Octavia - “and then life will go on”. Octavia was silent, her eyebrow raised as to say “ _Yeah sure, count on that.”_

 

“I beg you to behave.” Marcus said, looking mostly at Octavia than Bellamy, knowing the latter was better at keeping his thoughts for himself. The young girl scoffed but nodded, when her brother nudged her on the side.

 

“Whatever.” she huffed, “I will not screw this up if that's your concern.” she said, before storming out of the room. When she slammed the door of her bedroom closed, both Marcus and Bellamy let out a long heavy sigh.

 

“She's not stupid, you know that right?” Bellamy said, searching for his eyes. Marcus inhaled deeply.

 

“I know.” he said softly.

 

“Good. Don't forget that tonight.” he said, before smiling quickly, leaving him alone again.

 

 _I will certainly not._ Marcus thought, before pressing the palm of his hands on his closed eyelids, praying for that night to be just a pleasant dinner between two old friends and their kids.

 

 _Please._ He asked to nobody in particular.

 

 _Oh sure._ A voice, that he thought sounded really a lot like Octavia's, said back.

 

 

….

 

“So, any kind of weird rule we should know? Like... something we shouldn't say? Something we shouldn't ask?” Raven said, sitting on Abby's old bed, while brushing her long damp hair. Abby parted her lips as to answer, but Clarke preceded her.

 

“Something like “ _not talking about whatever had happened twenty years ago that forced my mother to never mention this man once?”_

 

“Clarke!” Abby admonished her, looking at her reflection into the mirror she was using to fix her light make up.

 

“Oh so I can ask?” Clarke retorted back, tilting her head, her blue eyes were challenging her through the glass. Abby sighed out and turned, so she could look her in the eyes.

 

“Can we just have a normal dinner? Eat good food, have pleasant conversations about random topics? As normal people do?” she said, her eyes balancing back and forth between the two girls, whom where now looking at her in silence, heavy stares, pursed lips.

 

“Sure. We can totally do that.” Raven said, standing up, securing her damp towel to her naked body with her free hand. “The real question is if _you_ will be able to do that.” she added, stopping few inches from her, her head tilted to the side, her eyes flaming with an intense curiosity.

 

“Of course I'm able to.” Abby said calmly, trying to defuse the sudden tension.

 

“Then you shouldn't worry too much.” she added, before stepping out the room, leaving her and Clarke alone.

 

“What?” Abby asked, when she noticed the way her daughter was looking at her. She hadn't stopped once since she had stepped inside the house. That look was heavy and suspicious, she was still trying to dig out of her the answers she seemed so desperate to get.

 

“Nothing.” she said, before discarding her towel over the bed, stepping in front of her bag completely naked, droplets of water rolling down her bare back.

 

“I'm happy to have you back.” Abby said suddenly, while Clarke was adjusting her black bra on her damp skin. She looked at her from over her shoulder, a quick but sincere smile colored her peachy lips.

 

“I'm happy to be back too mum.” she murmured. Abby nodded, closing her eyes, her heart growing another size in her chest. “But I hate it when you keep things from me.” Clarke added, forcing Abby to brake the moment she was having, opening her eyes, seeing the disappointment her daughter had written all over her face.

 

“I'm not keeping things from you honey.” Abby said, feeling the way that lie burned on the tip of her tongue. “I am fine. Everything is fine.” she said, nodding to herself, trying to not feel too guilty about lying _again_ to her daughter,

 

“I just want you to remember that you can tell me everything. Never forget that ok?” Clarke said then, her expression soft, her eyes sad. She looked actually hurt, and it wasn't helping.

 

“I know.” Abby whispered, trying to maintain some sort of self-control, before spitting out all the truths her daughter didn't know. Because what Abby knew very well, was that sooner than later, she was gonna tell her everything.

 

“Ok then.” Clarke said back, before starting to rummage inside of her bag, in search of something to wear. Abby turned on her heels again, and started to focus on the mascara over her eyelashes. Raven was drying her hair in the bathroom, while Clarke was frowning over the choices of outfit she had in her opened bag.

 

Abby covered her lips with her matte nude lipstick, and then sighed out to her reflection. She was wearing a pair of denim shorts, those her daughter had convinced her to buy few months before, the kind of shorts you see mostly on a teenager, not a _forty-something_ years old woman. But Clarke had kept saying she looked _so_ beautiful with them, and Abby had to admit they were pretty comfortable, and would keep her cool when summer would hit in full force.

 

Over it she was wearing a comfortable and slightly baggy cotton shirt, it was the color of dark coffee and left one of her shoulders exposed. She loved they way her slim body swam into it. The sleeves were cut in half over the elbows, giving the cool breeze a chance to sneak in from time to time, leaving a trace of goosebumps over her arms.

 

Abby tilted her head, adjusting her long hair over her shoulders. She was going to let it fall over her back in soft curls, no need to comb it in any way, it was fresh from the shower and smelled as wolf-berries.

 

“You look good mum.” Clarke said, noticing the way Abby had kept staring at her reflection in silence for a while now.

 

“You are more beautiful though.” Abby said, taking in the blue dress Clarke had decided to put on.

 

“Yeah well, like mother like daughter right?” Clarke joked, blushing slightly, smoothing invisible wrinkles on her gown.

 

“I'm better!” Raven suddenly screamed from the bathroom, drawing a light chuckle from the both of them.

 

“Have you finished there? I need to use the bathroom too woman!” Clarke yelled, stepping outside the room.

 

“Chill out Clarke, with your perfect blonde hair and blue eyes you will need like thirty seconds to be _just perfect_.” Raven mocked her, walking outside the bathroom, and giggling when Clarke slammed the door at her back, snorting loudly.

 

“Your daughter gotta learn what _sense of humor_ is.” Raven said, sitting heavily over the bed, her hair dry, her lips red, she had also put some bronze eye-shadow over her eyelids. Abby smirked.

 

“I think she hadn't inherited that trait from me.” she said.

 

“Too bad,” Raven said, smiling fondly. “You look good.” she added, roaming her big black eyes over Abby's figure.

 

“You look even better.” she said back, looking at the black clingy dress Raven had decided to wear. Her tanned skin was shimmering under the glowing warm light of the room, her toned muscles were bouncing under her creamy skin. She looked indeed beautiful, and Abby took a moment to linger into the thought.

 

“What?” Raven asked then, when she had kept quiet a moment too long.

 

“Nothing.” Abby said, smiling. “I'm just happy to have you both here with me.” she said, and this time it wasn't a lie. Raven smiled softly, her lips stretched for longer than usual, her eyes stroked Abby's feature with tenderness.

 

“You are coming back with us though, right?” Raven asked then, breaking the silence. Abby nodded softly.

 

“Of course.” she whispered. Her heart lipped in her chest. Not that she had planned on staying that long, but still... since with Marcus things had started to move toward a semblance of serenity, the thought of leaving made her feel like putting behind her back everything again.

 

She had done that already, many many years ago, it had been hard, harder than what she had ever admitted to herself, but she had done it already. This time though, considering all the time that had passed, considering how different things were now, going away meant something different.

 

She was here for a reason, that reason was to feel less pain, to linger into the good memories she had of her late husband... but also to forgive herself. The fact was that she had no power over the forgiveness she was searching for. It was all up to the man next door, the man with whom she was going to have dinner in less than a hour.

 

She just hoped things would turn out good in the end. Because going back to New York, to her house, her job, her life, without his forgiveness... this time was something she wasn't sure she could do.

 

The first time it had happened, she wasn't alone. The first time she had decided to move, to leave all behind, she had Jake with her, _they_ had decided to move and to start something _theirs_ in another city, without turning back.

 

This time she was going to move again, but without the love of her life at her side. She was going to move back to an empty house, an empty bed, to an empty life. She felt like it wasn't fair to think so, looking at Raven, that young girl that in a single year had made room for herself into her life. That girl that was always there to cheer her up with some chinese food, or with a sassy comment, or her weird and almost _completely platonic_ way to flirt with her.

 

It wasn't fair to feel like her life was empty when she had her, and her daughter. Clarke wasn't living with her anymore, but that was a good thing. She was moving forward, she was everyday a step closer to her future. Growing up meant also this, meant also leaving behind your house, your family, and pick up your dreams and plans, and make them grow into something solid and concrete.

 

Abby felt guilty to think of her life as empty. But that thought was hard to erase, that feeling didn't seem able to fade. Coming back here had been an impulsive decision. She hadn't planned, nor thought about it, she had just picked up her bag and had left all behind.

 

She had decided to step again into the memories she had so strongly avoided all this years, as if like that she could fill the hole that had been engraving in her heart since Jake had died. She didn't know exactly how that was going to happen, she didn't know why her old childhood house and that old town could help her fix the mess she was...

 

And yet here she was, and here she had started searching for that sense of peace she had been missing for too long. Seeing Marcus again, seeing her old house, seeing all of that, had been like stepping under a cold shower. Her bones and skin had reverberated with the power of it, her brain had started digging out memories she hadn't been thinking of in years.

 

And her heart had started shivering with fears she had been avoiding for too long. The fear of not be forgiven, the fear of dying without saying out loud all the truths she had always kept within herself. She was afraid of so many things, and coming back here had brought them all up again. But here she still was, stubbornly trying to get something good out of that utterly weird situation.

 

“Abby?” Raven was shaking her by the shoulder, tilting her head softly, searching for her eyes. Abby blinked and cleared her throat. _For how long had she been lost in thoughts?_

 

“Yeah?” she chocked out, smiling awkwardly at the young mechanic.

 

“I said that we are ready to go.” she whispered, taking back her hands, not before squeezing her shoulder affectionately.

 

“Oh, right.” Abby took a quick glance at herself in the mirror, Raven met her gaze into their reflection and smirked.

 

“We are hot as always Doc.” she said, giggling loudly when Abby blushed and covered her face in the palms of her hands.

 

“Let's go ladies!” Clarke yelled from downstairs, Raven secured one arm around Abby's shoulder and pushed her outside the room, a wild green printed over swollen lips.

 

 

….

 

“They're coming!” Octavia yelled, peeking from the curtain of the large living-room window. Marcus was bent over the roast-beef cooking in the oven, while Bellamy was setting up the table in the garden.

 

“What?” Marcus yelled back, the buzzing noise of his oven was preventing him to hear Octavia's words clearly. When the doorbell rang though, it was already too late.

 

“I'm going!” she said, before anyone could move a muscle. “Right on time!” Marcus heard her say then. He cleared his throat and took his oven mitts off, leaving them on the kitchen island. Without thinking he started to smooth some wrinkles from his black shirt, and ran a hand through his thick hair.

 

 _What are you doing?_ He asked himself.

 

 _I don't know._ He shook his head, telling himself that it was _just_ Abby.

 

When he had convinced himself to calm down just enough, Octavia walked in front of the kitchen, followed by Raven and Clarke, heading toward the living room. “We thought to eat outside, since it's getting warmer.” O. was saying, while the two girls were nodding, roaming their eyes all over the room. Clarke spotted him standing awkwardly in the kitchen, and flashed him a quick smile, before Octavia dragged her and Raven outside with her.

 

Marcus wanted to join them, but his legs were suddenly extremely rigid, and his feet too heavy. He closed his eyes and swallowed, a rush of nervousness ran through him. Suddenly all the tension he had been avoiding all day long was crashing onto him. Then, when he had finally took a first step toward the door, _she_ appeared.

 

He stopped and raised his eyes to meet hers. She was leaning a bare shoulder against the door-frame, tilting her head, her black bag swinging from her clasped hands. “It smells good in here.” she whispered, causing Marcus to chuckle awkwardly. Abby said noting, but a soft smirk appeared in the corner of her lips. Marcus cleared his throat and fixed his hands over his hips.

 

“Hopefully it will taste even better.” he said, trying to hide his sudden inability to behave like an adult.

 

_What is wrong with you?_

 

Abby walked in then, her eyes falling over the pot boiling up on the cookers. “Are you making pasta?” she said, looking back at him with a curious eyebrow raised.

 

“As a matter of fact... I am, yes.” he said, holding her stare as better as he could. She had a teasing kind of gleam in her eyes that he hadn't seen in years, and it was affecting him already.

 

_It will be a long night._

 

“Are you aware that I fed my daughter and that sassy girl with real Italian food all this time, yeah?” she said, crossing her arms and tilting her head. She was in a _playful_ mood that Marcus couldn't help to find extremely familiar.

 

“I thought so yes.” he said, smiling fondly. She smirked and hummed, walking toward the pot were the water was reaching its boiling point.

 

“It's almost time to pour the salt.” she said, peeking at the oven. “What's in there?” she asked.

 

“That's roast-beef.” he said, leaning against the sink.

 

“With roasted potatoes ?” she asked again, looking back at him. Marcus nodded and hummed quietly. “Your mother's recipe?” she said, blinking her eyes. Marcus smiled softly.

 

“Of course.” he said, nodding. Abby smiled fondly.

 

“I used to love your mother's cook.” she said, leaning over the kitchen island at her back.

 

“Just as much as I loved your mother's.” at that Abby bowed her head slowly and smiled softly, sighing out.

 

They fell silent then, one looking at the tip of her heels, the other observing his former best friend quietly. It was still weird to see her in his kitchen, but Marcus also couldn't help but feel like he was in the right place, with the right person, as it had always been in his childhood.

 

From outside the muffled voices of the kids were coming, reminding them they had other people there with them, people they couldn't even picture in their heads twenty years ago. When they were both young and carefree, with no worries and no responsibility, just three best friends growing up in the same little town in the middle of the mountains.

 

Now their lives were pretty much different, one of them was gone, and that knowledge was omnipresent, hovering upon them as a ghost, filling every moment of silent, following their shifty and worried eyes. It was odd to feel that out of place and yet at the same time comfortable enough to feel like they were both where they were supposed to be.

 

Abby wasn't his neighbor anymore, she was living in the big city, she had a successful career, she probably lived in a fancy house, with giant rooms and many memories where he didn't fit in. She had a beautiful daughter, smart and stubborn just like her, with Jake's blue bright eyes constantly reminding her of the man she had loved and lost. Marcus couldn't even imagine how that could be.

 

One ting he had never experienced was that kind of love, the kind of love that makes you grow and makes you wonder how could you have lived all your life without that person by your side. He had loved some people in his life, and he currently loved. But it wasn't the same thing.

 

He had loved his mother and father, they were family, blood, it was the kind of love you are supposed to feel, and in his case he had never actually felt like he had to, he had simply loved them.

 

Then he had loved his friends, deeply, both of them had been by his side since he was a little kid. They had grew up together, and had bonded over the years, the love and affection he had felt for them had simply been inevitable.

 

Now he loved his kids, his family. He had chosen to pick up those kids, even if sometimes he thought they had chosen him. It hadn't been conventional, he hadn't fallen in love with a woman and had then decided to build his own family. Those kids had happened to meet him halfway, to be there out of a bad casualty, that had brought them all together. He loved them as if they had been with him since the first day, and he knew that kind of love was the same one Abby felt for Clarke.

 

The kind of love you feel for your own child is instinctive, it's embedded in your veins, it pulses under your skin, right into your heart. It's a kind of love that makes you think you value nothing without them. So yes, Marcus had loved... but not in the way Abby had loved Jake.

 

He could see it in her eyes, how deeply she was missing him, how desperately she had suffered and was still suffering his absence. Twenty years before this moment, Marcus had thought they cared for each other, but he could had never imagined them to fall that deeply in love. So deeply that one day one's death would bring such a darkness into the other's life.

 

Abby was looking at him now, and they kept quiet while gazing into each other's eyes. It was as if a silent conversation was bouncing back and forth between them. Many of their unspoken questions and truths were balancing in the little space between their bodies.

 

He wanted to say something, and he could see it in the way she was looking at him, that she had something on her mind too. But they both decided to not voice their thoughts, not yet, not now. Their kids were in the other room, they were going to have dinner in less than half an hour, now it wasn't the time to spit it all out.

 

So Abby smiled, and Marcus smiled back. “You better pour the salt and start cooking the pasta.” she said, tilting her head toward the pot behind his back.

 

“Right.” he murmured, opening a cabinet, taking out a package of _egg_ _tagliatelle._

 

“Oh, so you are going for _tagliatelle al ragù?_ ” Abby said, leaving her bag on the stool and approaching him. “Bold move.”she added, smirking deeply.

 

“I still remember what your mother taught mine.” he said, looking at her with a challenge in his eyes. Abby giggled softly and shook her head.

 

“I hope that's true. I also hope _you_ cooked the sauce, otherwise I'll riot.” she joked, causing Marcus to chuckle throatily.

 

“It took me almost two hours to cook it. You better enjoy it.” he said, taking off the lid from the pot that was resting beside the cookers.

 

“It looks ok...” she murmured, Marcus at that raised an eyebrow and she grinned. “I have high standards, you know that.” she said, tilting her head. Before Marcus could say anything back, Clarke appeared at the threshold.

 

“Octavia sent me to check on you.” she said, keeping her distance, she sounded sorry, probably thinking she had just interrupted an important moment between them. Abby turned on her heels and smiled.

 

“Hey sweetie, everything's good here, I was just checking that Marcus didn't burn everything.” she said, flashing him a quick smirk from over her shoulder.

 

“Seriously?” he muttered, rolling his eyes when Abby chuckled softly, securing one arm around her daughter's waist.

 

“It smells good.” Clarke said, offering him a genuine smile. Marcus smiled back, while Abby kept looking at the both of them with an elusive emotion trapped into the deep brown of her eyes.

 

“I'm gonna say hi to Octavia and Bellamy.” she whispered, smiling at her daughter. Clarke nodded, but didn't follow her, instead she leaned her shoulder against the door-frame, and wrapped her arms around her waist.

 

She smiled to Marcus, and he smiled back. Then he started putting the fresh pasta into the hot water, busying himself seemed the best way to avoid the young girl's stare. He wanted to talk to her, to know her better. He really wanted to. But suddenly her blue eyes were reminding him of Jake terribly, and his mind couldn't stop thinking about the fact that she was Abby's and Jake's daughter, and that this was the first time he was seeing her in eighteen years.

 

“You know that my granny was half Italian yes?” she said, as if sensing his discomfort, and trying to find a neutral ground where they could start from. Marcus smiled and flashed her a quick glance.

 

“Yes, I'm aware of that.” he said, Clarke smiled and took a couple of steps toward him.

 

“I just thought you needed to be warned. You should be careful with serving Italian food to half Italian people.” she joked, smirking deeply.

 

_Gosh, she is indeed Abby's daughter._

 

“Oh you will enjoy it, I know some tricks.” he said, winking. Clarke smiled brightly, and in that same expression, this time Marcus could see Jake. It was almost overwhelming to catch so many details of them both into this stranger's features and gestures. He knew her since just a bunch of hours, and yet he felt as if she had been in his life since forever.

 

“So... you were my father's best friend?” she asked out of the blue. Marcus kept his stare on the boiling water for a moment, collecting the strength to look her in the eyes and answer to that question. Not that he wasn't expecting it, he was actually expecting even more coming from her. He thought it was just normal for her to ask, Jake was her father, he had died, and now she was right in front of one of his old friends.

 

“I was, yes.” he murmured, looking her in the eyes. Clarke was observing him intensely, and he could sense she was studying him.

 

_Like mother like daughter._

 

“I never heard of you.” she whispered, as if she didn't want anyone else to hear them. Marcus smiled sadly, nodded to himself and then focused his stare over the boiling water once again.

 

“Why my parents never talked about you?” Clarke asked. Her voice was calm and low, she wasn't judging nor accusing, she was merely curious to get answers to questions she didn't know she had till few hours before. Marcus sighed deeply and cleared his throat. He could see, from the corner of his eye, that Clarke was chewing on her lower lip.

 

She looked like unsure if she had any right to ask, if she had done something wrong. He wanted to reassure her, it wasn't her fault after all, she was merely curious.

 

“I think it's because they were too focused on their new life with you.” he said, his voice low. Clarke seemed to ponder about his answer, then closed her eyes ad inhaled deeply.

 

“They talked to me about Arkadia.” she said, her voice just above a whisper. “They never took me here before though.” she said with a nostalgic smile printed over her peachy lips. Marcus kept observing her, in every single expression he could see the ghost of Jake and the influence of Abby's genetics.

 

Both of them were glowing inside of this blonde girl's manners, it was mesmerizing to witness it.

 

“I'm glad to be finally here.” she whispered, looking back at him. Marcus smiled softly and she offered him the same kind of gentleness.

 

“I'm glad to finally meet you.” he said, and he really meant it. Since he had discovered about her he had felt that desire growing inside of him. Now she was there, in his own kitchen, looking at him with Jake's same blue eyes.

 

How many things had happened in the span of few days. First Abby had appeared, waking up dormant ghosts he had been avoiding for so long, and now her daughter had made her appearance, giving him a chance to peek into the life of his two old best friends. So much had happened, and his brain still probably needed to register all of that.

 

“Can I ask you something?” Clarke said, Marcus just nodded, circling his metal spoon into the boiling water. Clarke took a moment to form the question, then she sighed out deeply. “Is this the first time you have seen my mother since she had left?”

 

 _So much for curiosity_.

 

Clarke surely wasn't afraid to speak her mind, nor afraid to dig deeper into something to get the answers she wanted. Once again his mind drifted to Abby, she was indeed her mother's daughter.

 

“Yes.” he said, swallowing deeply. “We haven't been in contact until she appeared again last Monday.” he said, pursing his lips, trying to maintain the self-control he had been able to keep till now. Clarke said nothing for a long moment, then _unexpectedly_ one of her hands landed over his arm.

 

“I'm sorry he couldn't be here too.” she said, and she didn't need to say his name out loud for him to know.

 

Marcus nodded, then he turned toward her. Clarke took her hand back, but he invaded her personal space and squeezed her elbows softly. “He was a great man, and I bet he had been an amazing father.” he said, looking the girl straight in the eyes. He could see the perfect blue of her irises start to tremble with unshed tears.

 

“He was.” she chocked out. Her throat seemed constricted, she swallowed and sniffed back some tears, then a throaty laugh escaped her lips. “I'm sorry.” she whispered softly.

 

“There's no need to be.” he whispered back, meaning every word, positioning his hands on his hips, giving back the girl her personal space. Clarke smiled softly and nodded.

 

“Clarke? Could you come here a moment?” Raven's voice reached them from the back, both Clarke and Marcus looked outside the kitchen at the same time, then they looked briefly at each other.

 

“I better get going.” she said, her arms were tight around her waist now, she was embracing herself while squeezing her elbows. She looked slightly taken aback, but she was keeping it together.

 

“You do that, tell them it will be ready in five minutes.” he said, smiling again. Clarke nodded and bowed her head, leaving his kitchen quietly.

 

Then he was left alone with the boiling water, the sound of muffled voices coming from the back and his heart felt lighter and heavier at the same time. He inhaled deeply and then focused his attention back on the pasta.

 

_It was going to be a long night indeed._

 

….

 

“I'm just saying it would make a lot more sense for me to move to Los Angeles.” Octavia was saying, filling her mouth with some baked potatoes.

 

“We talked about this a million times O.” Marcus said back, sipping a bit of his red wine. “It's a long way from here.” he said, his black eyes flashed briefly over Abby, whom was sitting at the head of the table, chewing quietly over her meat.

 

She didn't raise her eyes to meet his and Marcus focused over Octavia once again, when she scoffed and put on a face that Clarke had used many times along the years with both her parents. “I will win this argument sooner than later, you better get used to the idea.” she said shrugging and focusing again over her plate.

 

Marcus closed his eyes and exhaled deeply, shaking his head. Bellamy cleared his throat, attracting Clarke's attention, she looked at him and he smiled, she smiled back. Then was when Raven nudged her on the side. Clarke blinked in her direction and Raven smirked, tilting her head slightly toward Octavia's brother, whom was sitting beside Marcus.

 

“What?” Clarke hissed, Raven's smirk grew even deeper, but she didn't answer her, instead she turned her attention to Marcus.

 

“So Marcus,” - she started to say, attracting everybody's attention, especially Abby's, whom was now peeking at her, while still busying herself with the plate under her nose. - “What do you do for a living?” she asked, Clarke took a look at her mother, she was now shifting her eyes between Marcus and her plate really rapidly.

 

She looked _curious_ to get an answer too. _Didn't she know what he did for a living?_

 

“Oh I...” he finished chewing over his piece of perfectly roasted beef, then smiled - “I am a teacher.” he said, smiling softly.

 

“Oh, and what do you teach?” Raven asked, tilting her head with curiosity. Clarke took a long sip of water, finishing it in one gulp. The glasses adorning the table were all half filled, hers, Raven's and the sibling's with fresh water, while her mother and Marcus had decided to go with some red french wine, apparently it was good with both pasta and meat.

 

Not that she cared that much for wines, and she also knew her mother wasn't that much of a drinker. She liked Italians wines though, when she had the chance she would always pick a bottle of two, but just for special occasions.

 

It could have been a birthday, a dinner with friends or some kind of _private_ celebrations she and her father had had during the years. Clarke wasn't supposed to know anything about them, but whenever they had left her with grandma and grandpa, she always saw a new bottle in the kitchen, and she always knew what that meant.

 

“I teach philosophy.” Marcus said, his eyes meeting Raven's briefly, before he focused on his plate again.

 

“Sounds interesting.” Raven said, printing a polite smile on her lips. Octavia snorted.

 

“Sounds boring.” she mumbled, drawing a soft chuckle from Abby. Clarke looked at her with a smile over her lips, her mother looked back at her quickly before focusing her attention over Octavia.

 

“It might seem so from your perspective now, but I gotta say it gets a lot more fascinating with time.” Abby said, getting just a roll of the eyes from the girl, and a quick gentle smile from Bellamy. Then was when Clarke noticed the way Marcus was looking at her mother, his dark eyes were intense on her, but she wasn't looking and didn't notice.

 

That had happened multiple times during the dinner.

 

Both her mother and Marcus would always try their best to avoid looking at each other directly. But whenever the other was talking about something that belonged to themselves, focusing their attention to everybody else, the other would start staring intensely, and then they would drop their gaze before it could be noticed.

 

Clarke didn't know how to explain it, but it brought some kind of tension over all of them. It seemed as if between her mother and this man, there was something going on that none of them, except themselves, were supposed to know about. Clarke had always been good at reading people though, and she had always had a passion for _details_ , it was probably due to her love for drawing and painting.

 

Art had demanded her many times to use details, that was why she had improved this ability along the years, the ability to see what others couldn't see. According to her mother she was also a lot like her father, and empathy was one of the many traits she had inherited from him. This allowed her to also feel things others couldn't feel.

 

Tonight she was experiencing one of those moments, when she could sense and see things that others didn't seem to get. Something was going between her mother and this man, she still couldn't say what that was, but she knew that sooner or later she was going to find out.

 

“He was a cop once, that was far more interesting.” Octavia asserted, and silence descended over the table after that. Abby had raised her eyes from her plate, and was looking at him.

 

“You were?” she asked, her voice low, as if there was any chance everybody else couldn't hear her. Marcus didn't answer at first, then he cleaned the corner of his lips with a clean napkin and nodded, meeting Abby's gaze.

 

“I was, yes.” his low voice reverberated in his chest. For a moment they looked at each other in silence, their eyes seemed to dive one into the other. Clarke kept observing that exchange with curiosity, until Bellamy cleared his throat.

 

“He was a good police officer, but he is even a better teacher.” he said, and Clarke noticed the way one of his hands landed over his father's back gently, resting there for a while. Marcus adverted his gaze from Abby and looked at the boy, offering him a brief and quick smile.

 

“Right...” Octavia murmured then, and bowed her head in what looked like shame. Raven frowned and looked briefly at both Clarke and Abby, the three of them shared a confused look but didn't say a thing. Then Marcus and the siblings fell quiet, they seemed to be diving into a memory that belonged to them only.

 

It was as if they had stepped into a private and intimate territory, one that others weren't allowed to talk about. So the three women kept quiet, all of them focusing on their plates, trying to ignore the tension that had suddenly grew over them.

 

Clarke and Raven kept sharing quick glances, Abby was focused over her plate, a deep frown engraving on her forehead, she looked confused and interested to know what was going on as much as them, but had decided to keep quiet as well.

 

“I always loved philosophy.” Clarke said suddenly, breaking the silence, it was starting to make her feel uncomfortable, and she told herself it was her turn to say something this time. Marcus looked up at her, and even the siblings flashed her a look, as if they all had forgotten she was still there.

 

“I remember my first philosophy lesson, our teacher looked at us all and then asked _What is philosophy?”_ she smiled at the memory, remembering that day clearly. Her mother nodded slightly and smiled herself, she had heard that story before. “Nobody answered. We all waited for her to tell us. She didn't, not at first at least.” Marcus was listening carefully now, and Clarke took that as her clue to keep talking.

 

“Then she sat down on her desk, crossed her legs, smiled fondly and said “ _Philosophy is knowing that you will never live this moment again._ ” she looked at him at that, smiling softly. Marcus kept quiet for a while, his face expressionless. Then he smiled deeply and nodded.

 

“You agree with that?” he asked her, his voice low. Clarke smirked deeply and took a brief look at her mother, she was looking at her with her hands joined under her chin, her meal forgotten in her plate.

 

“I am studying to become a doctor, just as my mother, science always intrigued me, because it gives us answers.” she said, at that everybody looked at Abby, but she kept her stare on her daughter, as if nobody else existed at the table except for the two of them. Marcus' eyes lingered on her longer than the others, without trying to hide it this time. “Science is what we know, but Philosophy... is what we don't know. So yes, I do agree.” she concluded, her eyes fixed on Marcus now.

 

The man adverted his gaze from Abby at that and looked back at her, his lips turned into a soft smile and he nodded. “I can't argue with that.” he softly said. Clarke's smile grew bigger, and she took her glass in hand, taking a long sip of water.

 

“What made you become a Philosophy teacher?” she asked him then, deciding she was going to take advantage of the situation to get to know him better. At her question Marcus lowered his eyes once again, and cleared his throat. Abby focused on her plate as well, as if afraid of the answer he could give.

 

_Why?_

 

“I had a lot of questions.” he started saying, playing with a piece of tomato with his fork. “I didn't know how to get the answers I was looking for...” his eyes were fixed on Clarke, she held his gaze, but could also see in the corner of her eyes how her mother was looking at him, as if what he was saying had a different meaning for her. “...so I decided to become a Philosophy teacher, to try to find those answers.” he eventually said, filling his mouth with the fresh tomato he had been playing with till now.

 

“I see.” Clarke simply said, nodding with herself.

 

“So did you find those answers then?” Raven asked suddenly, intruding in the conversation. Marcus looked at her and smiled briefly, shaking his head.

 

“Some of them.” he said, hiding what looked like a nostalgic smirk against his glass, sipping at the thick red wine. His eyes landed over Clarke at that, he kept them on her a little while longer, before Abby cleared her throat and attracted everybody's attention.

 

“Maybe we are not supposed to answer all of our questions.” she murmured, looking directly at her plate, she was avoiding everybody's stare. “Maybe sometimes the unknown should remain so.” she added. Nobody said anything for a long while, Clarke kept looking at the way her mother was now torturing the inside of her cheek, but then the man sitting in front of her decided to break the silence once again.

 

“Maybe other times the answer is exactly what we need.” he said, his dark eyes fixed on her mother. “Some things demand answers, clarification, truth.” his voice was low, vibrating with a trapped emotion Clarke couldn't quiet define. Abby closed her eyes shut and swallowed deeply, then raised her eyes and met Marcus' gaze.

 

“Maybe...” she said softly, looking him straight in the eyes, and there it was again, that weird exchange between them. Clarke kept observing them as if they held the answers to all the questions filling her mind. Something was going on here, she could sense it, and she was pretty sure the others were starting to think the same.

 

“But maybe, sometimes the answers can hurt more than they can help.” she said, licking at her lips, lowering her gaze briefly to her hand, where her wedding ring was shining. She circled it with the tip of her thumb, a nostalgic smile coloring her lips.

 

Clarke noticed the way Marcus' dark eyes landed over her mother's hand as well. “Truth can hurt, but it's always better than a pretty lie.” he said, at that Abby looked up again. “Don't you think?” he asked.

 

Abby said nothing at first, and it seemed as if everybody sitting at the table was holding their breath, waiting for her to answer. Clarke was focused on reading her mother's expression, and didn't notice the way the siblings looked at each other, worried eyes, frowns engraving deeply on their foreheads.

 

“What if the truth is too hard to be expressed? What if the lie is all that is left? What if the truth is unknown even to the liar?” she said then, Clarke noticed the way her cheeks were reddening, her breath shortening. She looked _nervous,_ and slightly uncomfortable.

 

“Truth always comes out at some point. That's just how it works. You can lie to yourself as long as you are able to... but in the end, we all have to answer for our sins, all of us.” he said then clenching his jaw, his fists tightening on the table clot. Abby closed her eyes briefly and swallowed deeply, nodding and pursing her lips.

 

“Sins... gosh, you are being melodramatic now.” she muttered, taking her glass to her lips, sipping deeply from it.

 

“We all made mistakes along the way Abby.” he said, playing with a piece of bread in his plate. Abby hummed, while swallowing down a great amount of red wine.

 

“Nobody is really innocent.” she said, looking at him sideways. This forced Marcus to chuckle bitterly, he clenched his jaw fiercely, he looked almost _mad_.

 

“Some are guiltier than others though.” he muttered, flashing her mother a look sharp as a knife. Clarke swallowed, but tried to keep quiet, whatever was going on it was between the two of them only.

 

“That's for sure.” Abby said, leaning her back on her chair, crossing her arms, flashing him a cold smile. “Even if some of them have a hard time admitting what they did.” she said eventually, grinding her teeth.

 

They both looked _angry_ now. It wasn't just him, it was her too.

 

Marcus was quiet now, his jaw clenched, his eyes heavy and dark over her mother. They kept staring at each other for a long while, ignoring completely the rest of them.

 

Then was when Octavia decided she had had enough, she inhaled deeply, stood up rapidly and put on her lips the brightest of smiles.

 

“Ok, who's ready for dessert?”

 

 

….

 

_Frustrating, stubborn, insufferable woman._

 

Marcus was glaring at his dishwater, while filling it with dirty plates. His mind a swirl of imprecations all headed toward that _tiny impossible woman_ whom was currently helping the kids cleaning the table.

 

_How dare she?_

 

He clenched his jaw, feeling the rush of anger boiling up in his veins.

 

_She has no right to act like that._

 

He kept telling himself, while slamming the dishwater closed, setting it to start immediately. The sound of water starting to swirl inside of it filled the quiet room.

 

_She has no right._

 

He leaned his back against the sink, running his hands over his closed eyes.

 

_No right._

 

Then was when someone entered the room, and landed a couple of dirty bowls into the sink, the noise startled him. He blinked his eyes open and _of course_ it had to be her.

 

Abby was looking at him with fumy eyes, one hand on her hip, the other gripping at the sink.

 

“You forgot these.” she said, her smoky voice vibrating with what sounded as rage.

 

_You have no right to be angry._

 

He said nothing and withdrew, putting some distance between them. Abby kept her heavy stare on him, Marcus ignored her.

 

“Don't bother, I'll wash them.” she said, rolling her sleeves up to the elbows, opening the taps. Warm water splashed over the ceramic bowls they had used to eat the ice-cream. After Octavia had interrupted their conversation before, they had stopped talking, and had just kept throwing angry glares at each other.

 

Until Marcus had decided it was enough, and had started taking the dirty plates inside. He needed something to do, or he was going to snap right there in front of their kids, and that couldn't happen.

 

Cause _honestly_ he didn't know if that could end nicely.

 

Abby had started washing the bowls without saying a word, but she was trying her best to make as much noise as possible. She was trying to get to his nerves, as if she hadn't been doing that all evening.

 

He kept ignoring her, gripping at the edges of his marble kitchen island, focusing his attention outside, looking at the way darkness had started covering up his garden. Shadows were replacing the light, where before the sun shone and shimmered, now darkness and whispers of blue were dancing.

 

“Done.” she said eventually, closing the taps, drying her hands on a clean towel that was resting on the stool at his side. Then she fell silent, crossed her arms and started looking at him. Marcus was fighting hard against the urge to turn his head and meet her gaze, but he didn't want to give her that satisfaction.

 

She wanted to _argue,_ he knew that. He could see it in the way her eyes were shimmering, with that fire that always burned in the deep of her irises whenever she felt the need to speak her mind. It was clear in the way her lips were closed, but her chin was slightly trembling. And it was evident in the way her hands were squeezing the fabric of her shirt right above her elbows. She was keeping it together, waiting for him to talk first, like that she new she was going to win the argument.

 

But Marcus wasn't gonna do that, not this time. Time had passed, he had grown, she had too, things hadn't changed for her, but he had trained along the years, and he knew he could win this time.

 

Not that it had something to do with winning technically, but no matter what he told himself, he knew everything was still the same between them. So _yes_ in the end it was a matter of winning. It had always been like that between them, and that was something time couldn't change, it would always stay the same.

 

After a couple of minutes, that had felt more like a couple of hours, Abby huffed and Marcus knew he had won, at least this battle.

 

If she wanted to say something, she had to speak first. He wasn't gonna speak, not this time.

 

“You're just gonna ignore me now?” she said, her voice low and rough. Marcus clenched his jaw, but kept his stare over the darkness outside of his window. Abby waited a little longer, when it was clear that he wasn't gonna say a thing though, she scoffed and raised her hand to her hair, her fingers dived in her soft curls, and she started circling on her feet.

 

“Are we really back to this?” she said, looking at him again. She approached him, her hands landing over the stool at his side, she clenched her fingers around it, squeezing hard, her knuckles turned white.

 

“We can't keep up like this Marcus.” her tone was gentle, low, she was trying to sound all but angry. But he knew her better. “We gotta talk, we need to solve this.” her eyes were glued to him. The cold light of the kitchen was casting trembling shadows over the two of them, while outside darkness was winning the battle against the warm spring sun.

 

“If you have something to say, just say it.” she growled, and Marcus could feel she was growing impatient. Abby had never been able to wait, when she wanted something she had to get it immediately. That was a thing he had always been better at, _waiting_.

 

Thinking back at it now, it almost sounded _ironic._

 

“Marcus please... just say it.” she whispered, biting at the inside of her cheek. She looked briefly at her back, where the kitchen met the living room. She was thinking at the kids, and at the fact that they could walk in at any moment.

 

She knew they couldn't do it now, not here, not like this. But this didn't stop her from turning on her heels, walking quietly toward the door, close it and lock it. Marcus couldn't help and flashed her a look, she was plastered against the closed door, her hands cupped behind her back, her eyes firm over him.

 

“We need to solve this.” she murmured, he clenched his jaw again, and felt the need to yell at her.

 

_How dare you lock the door of my kitchen? You have no right, this isn't your home, here I have the power to decide. And I decided we are not doing this now._

 

He wanted to tell her this, and much more, but suddenly he wasn't able to say anything. So he turned again and swallowed hard.

 

 _Coward_.

 

“Don't you wanna solve this Marcus?” she asked, her tone was once again soft, low, a vibrating rough murmur, loud enough to be heard just above the dishwasher. And while she was digging a way through him, Marcus was having an inner emotional conflict.

 

On the one hand he wanted to kick her out, to open the door and let her know she could go and never come back. He didn't want to talk, he didn't want to solve anything. Because she was stubborn and impossible and he knew this could end just in one way. _Badly._

 

On the other hand though... he wanted to let her talk. He wanted to listen to what she had to say, and he wanted to tell her all the things he had kept for himself all these years. He wanted to solve this _yes,_ he desperately needed to solve this. But he was too afraid to know the truth, and to expose his own.

 

_He was indeed a coward._

 

“I'm sorry.” she whispered then, when it was clear that he wasn't gonna talk. “For what I said before...” she inhaled deeply, starting to walk around the kitchen island. “And for everything else.” she added, before stopping right in front of him, her arms once again wrapped around herself.

 

“I really am Marcus. Believe it or not, I am sorry.” she whispered. Marcus kept quiet, and kept ignoring her. He knew that in order to feel better he had to look her in the eyes, and find the courage to talk, and tell her all that he wasn't saying.

 

But he couldn't find the courage to do so. Abby had always been braver than him, even when it came down to apologies. It was rare for her to admit that she was wrong, not because she was too proud to do so, simply because it was rare for her to be wrong.

 

That was a matter of fact.

 

But in this case, she was wrong, and she knew it, and she was admitting it.

 

_Brave indeed._

 

“I'm also sorry for what had happened... _that summer._ ” she exhaled deeply after that and at her words, Marcus' heart stopped, for a long long moment. He braced himself for whatever was coming next. “I'm sorry because I hadn't the courage to ask. Because I didn't try harder.” she swallowed, he could sense it, even if he wasn't looking at her, because the room was suddenly so quiet that all he could hear was her. It almost seemed as if he could hear her own heart beating fast and loud in her chest.

 

But it was most probably just his own.

 

“I should have tried harder. Instead of blaming you and not trying to _understand_ you.” she whispered, her voice was thick and velvety. She sounded genuinely sorry, and she was still trying to dig a way through him, she had always been so good at doing that. She hadn't lost her touch.

 

Or maybe it was him, maybe he had never stopped to be _that_ affected from her. She had a power over him, and sometimes it seemed as if she was aware of that, it seemed as if she had learned how to use it to get what she wanted.

 

But _no,_ Abby had never used him that way. She had never done something to hurt him, not on purpose.

 

And he was realizing this just now, in his kitchen, twenty years too late.

 

Abby had never purposely decided to use him, she had never purposely decided to break his heart. She couldn't have done it, not just because she was better than this, but because back then, she didn't know how he felt.

 

_He had never been brave enough to say it._

 

She didn't know, because ha had never been able to admit it even to himself.

 

“I know that it's too late now. What it's done it's done. But I still feel sorry... You were my best friend Marcus...” she was leaning toward him now, Marcus was staring at her hands, pressed flat over the cold marble, he couldn't look her in the eyes, because he knew that he would see exactly what he couldn't handle.

 

_Pain._

 

“I should have tried harder.” she said again, and this time her words took their time to sink in. Engraving themselves into his heart, forcing him to close his eyes shut and swallow hard.

 

_I should have tried harder._

 

Marcus wanted to scream. It was almost unbearable to stay there, listening to her apologizing over and over again, repeating the same words in an endless loop, as if like that she could make up for all the years she had been silent.

 

_You never told her the truth._

 

_She never asked._

 

Abby was silent as much as his mind was loud. She was looking at him, waiting, giving him the time he needed to meet her halfway.

 

He wanted to.

 

_But he didn't know how._

 

It had been twenty-two years since the last time they had talked about Paris. It had been a lifetime. So many things had happened and changed, but no matter how many years had came and go, how many miles had kept them apart, how many new people had filled their hearts... It was never going to be easier.

 

Marcus took a deep breath and looked at her. “We said we were never gonna talk about this again.” he whispered. Abby remained silent for a long while, then a sad smile adorned her lips.

 

“We also said we were gonna be friends forever Marcus...” her deep brown eyes were heavy and nostalgic.

 

“Right...” he managed to whisper. “Right...”

 

“I know this isn't the best time... but we can't keep avoiding this forever.” she whispered, Marcus closed his eyes shut and swallowed.

 

“We could have done this before.” he said coldly.

 

“Marcus...” she sighed out heavily, but Marcus started shaking his head, pursing his lips. His hands squeezed in tight fists over the kitchen island.

 

“No. You know that I'm right. We could have done this before.” he growled, looking her in the eyes. He was scared to face the truth, to face this argument that had been hanging in the silence that had kept them apart for all those years. So instead of facing it, he replaced his fear with anger.

 

It was easier that way, even if it was wrong, he couldn't seem able to help himself.

 

“We could have talked, we could have tried to make it better.” he was shaking his head numbly. “But you decided to leave me.” he hissed, and this forced Abby to advert her gaze, clenching her jaw and swallowing hard.

 

“You decided to leave me...” he repeated, in a rough whisper that left his lungs with effort.

 

“It's not fair.” she murmured, walking toward the window, fixing her gaze into the darkness outside, trying to avoid him just as he had done till now.

 

“ _Fair?”_ he said, his voice raising to a dangerous level. He could feel the anger boiling up again, a new rush of adrenaline building up in the pit of his stomach. It was so much easier to be mad at her than to simply face the truth.

 

That truth that would have been able to end this for good, that truth was too hard to face, so instead he was using anger. Abby kept quiet, but he could see the way she was peeking at him from over her shoulder.

 

“You don't have a right to tell me what's fair and what isn't.” he growled, his voice was coming out right from his throat, it was heavy and deep, and it was reverberating into his chest.

 

“Marcus-” she tried to speak, but he interrupted her with a loud and stern “ _No!”_

 

“You wanted me to talk? Now I talk.” he said, finding the courage to keep talking from the rage rushing into his veins. He knew that if he let her talk again he would never be able to say the things he had to say.

 

His mind was working fast around his thoughts, pushing him to say all the things he had never said, when he parted his lips, Abby squeezed her arms around herself even tighter.

 

“We said we would never talk again about this, and yet here you come, twenty years later, asking me to talk about it. Let me say... it's a bit ironic.” he started to say, his voice bitter and sharp.

 

“But I think we have different memories of that summer. And we both kept blaming each other for what had happened after.” he had approached her at the window, and was now leaning his shoulder against the glass. He raised his dark eyes and met hers, she looked impatient to hear him out, but also particularly scared at the same time.

 

“I think it's time for us to be honest about what had happened.” his voice was heavy but steady. He was managing his anger and his own _fear_ pretty good. “At least I think we both agree on when the problems had started...” he murmured, this time he had to fight really hard to keep his eyes steady on her.

 

Abby blinked and shifted her gaze toward the darkness outside again, he could see the way she swallowed hard and how tensed she was, every nerve and muscle was shivering.

 

“When _you_ k-” she started to say, but Marcus scoffed and this made her stop, swallowing and closing her eyes shut.

 

“When _we...”_ he said, and Abby blinked her eyes open. He saw the ghost of unshed tears shimmering in her brown irises, but he couldn't stop, not now, not when they were _finally_ talking about this. Not when she was _finally listening_ to him.

 

“When... _we... kissed_.” she chocked out, finishing the sentence for him, her eyes were trembling into his, her body so tensed he feared she could break at any moment.

 

“When we kissed... exactly.” he whispered.

 

_When we kissed._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES Chapter 8 will give you the answer to the question you have been asking me since chapter 2: What happened in Paris dude? Give me a sec to sort out my thoughts and feels and then I will let you know (also tomorrow it will be the series finale night... I GOTTA WRITE THIS BEFORE WE ALL DIE)


	8. Our Last Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Would you like to go somewhere with me?” she asked in a whisper. Marcus frowned, then tilted his head.
> 
>  
> 
> “Of course.” he said without thinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is here, PARIS IT'S HERE! Guys, it took me a lifetime to end this, it's probably the longest chapter I ever wrote (surely on this work) but gotta say I am almost ok with it (yes I am highly critical when it comes to my own works) so let me know what you think, leave kudos if you want to but especially comment, tell me your feelings, your thoughts, cause I want to know, I am terribly curious every time!

 

_**June 04, 1996** _

 

 

“Hi Marcus.” it was Elena, Abby's mother, whom opened the door on that sunny afternoon of June.

 

She was wearing a blue clingy summer dress, colorful flowers peppered all over the light fabric. Her long brown hair was collected into a messy bun and she was cleaning her hands on a stained towel. She looked busy, but seemed really glad to see him, after all it was part of her nature, to be kind and welcoming. Unlike her own mother though, Elena Walters was more selective when it came down to the people she liked and was happy to see.

 

Vera Kane was naturally kind and generous, she always had a kind smile and some polite conversation ready for everybody. Elena was always ready to introduce herself as a smiley and gentle little woman, but behind her chestnut eyes you could see the burning fire of a woman that knew how she wanted people to treat her and her family. A trait she had passed on to her only daughter.

 

Marcus was lucky enough to be well loved from both the Walters women, once Abby had decided she wanted him in her life, Elena had followed suit quiet rapidly.

 

“Hi.” Marcus entered the Walters' house with a lopsided grin printed over his lips. The smell of something roasting in the oven invaded his senses as soon as the front-door was closed at his back, his tongue turned immediately liquid.

 

He was used to good food, his mother was a hell of a cook, but Elena's parents were Italian, and she had inherited from them not only her name, a house in Tuscany and the knowledge of their romantic language, but also many secret recipes she kept as treasures in a hidden drawer in her luminous kitchen.

 

“Does Abby know you're here?” Mrs Walters asked, huffing a bit when she noticed a stain of tomato sauce plastered on her gown. She started scratching it with one of her nails, while Marcus roamed his eyes around the living room, his hands clasped behind his back.

 

He knew the place by memory, and his eyes jumped with knowledge from the shelves with many of Mr. Walters' books, to the framed pictures of the three of them, sharing amazing trips all over the world. Amazing landscapes and smiley faces welcomed everyone who stepped a foot inside their little blue house.

 

“I suppose, the movie starts in less than a hour.” he said, nodding with himself.

 

“Oh then you better go and tell _them_ to be quick.” she said, offering him a genuine smile.

 

“Them?” he asked, even if he could guess by himself who she was referring to. Other than him, the only other person allowed in Abby's room was Jake. But he had no idea he was going to come with them...

 

“Yeah, sorry honey but I gotta check on the dinner before I burn everything.” Mrs Walters started saying, while walking toward the kitchen without turning back, “You can go to her room, you know the way.” she said, before she had disappeared completely. The sound of metal against metal followed right after, telling him she was already focused over something else.

 

Marcus pursed his lips and approached the stairs that leaded to the sleeping area and the master bathroom. He had just climbed the first step, when Abby's door was opened and Jake stormed outside. His cheeks red, his hair messy, he looked like he had just woken up and had gotten into a fight with the blankets.

 

When he noticed him standing there, he stopped abruptly, his blue eyes widened a bit, and he clenched his jaw.

 

“Hey.” Marcus said, but before he could add anything else, Abby appeared on the threshold.

 

“Marcus! It's already time for us to go?” she wheezed. Jake flashed her a look from over his shoulder, but Abby didn't meet his gaze, instead she focused her eyes on the tip of her shoes. Her cheeks were red too, the color of spring cherries, she was as her usual particularly tanned, and Marcus thought that the contrast of colors suited her.

 

“Enjoy your movie.” Jake muttered, flashing them both a piercing look, before climbing down the last step, storming outside the house without even bothering to say goodbye.

 

Marcus frowned, and as soon as Jake had slammed the door behind his back, he turned again, founding Abby few inches from him. She was so close now that he could see every detail of her face, from the almond shape of her eyes, the same as her mother, to the straight nose she had inherited from her father.

 

“Is everything alright?” he asked, trying to ignore how good she smelled from this close. It was a thing that had started happening more and more often lately, she would approach him and he would find himself sniffing her at any given chance, losing himself into the rich scent of her hair and skin.

 

She smelled as almond oil, the one her mother used, and vanilla.

 

It was almost _embarrassing_ how affected he was by it.

 

“Yeah.” she said, a frown engraving on her forehead, but she quickly nodded it away and smiled, shrugging slightly, her features relaxed in the process. “He had to study for an incoming exam, so he couldn't come with us.” she said, tilting her head, before bowing it to the ground and starting biting at her lower lip.

 

“I see.” Marcus whispered. Not that he felt too sorry about it. If he had to be honest, he didn't mind that much the idea of spending some quality time alone with her.

 

How ironic it was to think back at when they first had met, how _insufferable_ he had thought her to be, and how he found himself now _happy_ about the idea of spending some time with her alone.

 

“Then we shall get going, I thought we could walk to the movie theater.” he said, tilting his head to meet her eyes. Abby looked up at him and smiled, the ceiling above their heads was casting whispers of golden into the rich brown of her chocolate colored irises, and he found himself unable to stop staring.

 

“Sounds good to me.” she said, before looking briefly at her back. “Let me just get my bag, then we can go.” she said, without waiting for him to answer, climbing the stairs rapidly, disappearing inside of her room.

 

Marcus blinked, realizing he was still staring at the spot where she had been just few seconds before, he shook his head and dived his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Deciding he was going to wait for her at the front-door.

 

After a couple of minutes she appeared again, her purse secured around one arm, a black jacket draped over the other. “Mum? I'm off with Marcus.” she yelled to the kitchen. The sound of some kettles being settled down preceded the appearance of Mrs Walters.

 

“Ok honey, enjoy the movie, and don't be too late.” she said, flashing them both a smile.

 

“Yes mum.” Abby said, rolling her eyes, adding _I'm eighteen for god's sake_ under her breath.

 

“I'll make sure she comes home safely.” Marcus said, offering to Mrs Walters one of his brightest smiles, ignoring on purpose the burning glare that Abby flashed him.

 

“Oh I know you will, it's her that concerns me the most.” Mrs Walters said, raising a maternal eyebrow when Abby flashed her a glare as well. “I know how _persuasive_ she can be.” she said, before blowing her daughter a kiss, disappearing inside the kitchen again.

 

“Let's go.” Abby murmured, ignoring her mother's last statement, opening the door and dragging him outside with her.

 

….

 

They had been walking for almost twenty minutes. At first they had talked a bit about the movie they were going to watch, and what they had done in the last couple of days, then they had fallen quiet. Not that he cared too much, he felt comfortable to share even just the silence with her.

 

It was a thing they often did, spend some time together, without the need to fill every second with words. That was the level their friendship had grown to along the years, a level of comforting routine, a familiarity that he had grown fond of.

 

Suddenly she started to nervously torture her lower lip again though, and that pushed him to break the silence.

 

“Something's wrong?” he asked, his fingers grazing ever so slightly over her bare arm. She was wearing her old Rolling Stones t-shirt, the iconic red tongue was consumed, and it was starting to be a little too small for her. He had bought it for her four years ago, she hadn't been able to go to the concert because too young, he and Jake had went, and when he had seen it, he had thought it could be a good gift.

 

He had been right. Since that day on Abby had used it at any given chance.

 

He had told her many times that he could buy her another one, but she had always refused, saying she was going to protect that shirt with her life if she had to. So in the end he had stopped trying to convince her, and she had kept using it.

 

Even if it was shorter than what it was supposed to be, and more consumed than what was considered _proper_ from their parents, it still suited her, and he loved the fact that she kept wearing it.

 

“No. Nothing's wrong.” she murmured, answering his previous question, flashing him a brief smile. Marcus raised an eyebrow at that, and she rolled her eyes. “I'm serious. Nothing is wrong.” she repeated herself, this time her tone was more stern, and her eyes wide open.

 

Still, Marcus could sense something was off. It wasn't just in the way her eyes looked shifty, or in the way she carried herself, her arms wrapped around her waist, her teeth nibbling at her lower lip insistently. It was also because of the tension he had felt earlier in her house, right before Jake had stormed outside.

 

Maybe they had gotten into a fight. It was rare of them to argue, he had to admit he was the one that mostly disagreed with her. But it could still happen, even to the best of friends, to see things differently, and to fall into a discussion without even knowing how it had started.

 

“It has something to do with Jake?” he asked, trying to keep his voice neutral. It didn't go unnoticed to him though, the way she slightly flinched at the mention of his name, or the way she did her best to avoid his gaze right after his question.

 

_So it had something to do with him._

 

“I told you. Everything is fine.” she said, this time focusing her attention at her side. They were walking in front of the town's kindergarten, and her eyes were dancing from the trees to the playground where they had spent years playing as toddlers. Now it was empty. It was Sunday and schools were closed.

 

“You know that you can tell me everything right?” he whispered, peeking at her, trying to read into her expression the things she wasn't saying. Abby closed her eyes briefly and exhaled heavily.

 

“I know.” she simply said, then fell quiet again.

 

_Ok then._

 

If she didn't want to talk, he wasn't gonna push her. Maybe it wasn't something important, maybe she didn't want to talk about it because it was for real _nothing._ Or maybe she was still too mad to explain it without getting nervous.

 

Whatever the reason was, he could wait.

 

….

 

They stopped in front of the movie theater fifteen minutes later, and Abby was still quiet. She had kept her thoughts for herself, and he had patiently waited, telling himself that a _good friend_ does that.

 

A good friend listens if he has to.

 

A good friend talks if his friend wants to.

 

A good friend keeps quiet if his friend isn't in the mood for talking .

 

He was a good friend, Abby didn't want to talk, so he had kept quiet.

 

But he was starting to feel again how that silent was growing into tension, and so he tried once again to defuse it.

 

“Oh by the way, the movie it's on me.” he said, looking at her with a smile. But Abby wasn't listening, nor even looking at him. Her eyes were fixed on the line of people in front of them.

 

There were a few he knew, they were old schoolmates, along the years they had simply stopped talking, and now if their paths met, they would simply share a quick glance or a polite smile before moving on. Others were complete strangers. Some were talking and laughing, others were couples, holding hands, whispering in each other's ears words that weren't meant for others except that for them.

 

He always felt a little bit uncomfortable when he found himself close to people that looked perfectly in love. It always felt as if whatever he was doing, and that could be even just standing in line as now, he was intruding into a private moment, an intimate cocoon he wasn't supposed to step in.

 

He shook his head when the thought hit him, and looked at the quiet girl at his side, but she wasn't looking at him. Abby was staring intensely at a couple that was currently making out, shamelessly, against the wall of the building, few meters from them. She was so focused that didn't even noticed that the queue had moved forward.

 

“Abby?” he squeezed her shoulder gently, trying to attract her attention, she blinked in his direction.

 

“Mh?” she hummed, tilting her head. Marcus couldn't stop his mind from thinking that she looked _cute_ while blinking at him with those big almond eyes of her _,_ when the thought formed in his head though, he wiped it away clearing his throat awkwardly and smiling kindly.

 

“It's our turn.” he whispered, pointing toward the girl behind the glass, that was waiting for them, she looked pretty annoyed while chewing on her bubblegum. Abby didn't say anything, so Marcus took a step forward. He had just parted his lips to ask for two tickets, when Abby sneaked one hand under his arm, and secured it around his bicep.

 

“Let's go somewhere else Marcus.” she whispered, pulling him toward her before he could protest.

 

“What? Abby, the movie it's starting.” he protested, but Abby didn't stop, on the contrary, her grip on his arm tightened and she started walking more rapidly on the sidewalk, heading in the opposite direction of the movie theater.

 

“Abby? What's going on?” he asked, flashing a last look at his back.

 

“I am not in the mood for a movie Marcus, that's all.” she said, without looking him in the eyes. Then was when her arm slipped from his, but instead of withdrawing, her hand fell in his, and she squeezed it hard.

 

Marcus wasn't used to hold hands with her, but the _urge_ he could sense in her gestures told him she needed this. So his hand stayed in hers and he fell silent, following her lead.

 

….

 

He didn't know for how long Abby had kept quiet, while walking as fast as she could without stumbling on her own feet. They had passed the “ _You are leaving Arkadia”_ sign a mile ago, that meant they had been walking since at least twenty minutes, if not even more.

 

He liked to walk, and he and Abby had always appreciated to take long walks in the woods, sometimes they also liked to take their backpacks and head to Lake Hope on foot. It was good for the body and the mind. Walking between the trees, listening to the chirping birds reminding them of the nature waiting for them outside of their little rooms...

 

But the urgency Abby seemed to have of leaving town was starting to make him feel worried. He knew she didn't always liked to talk, and that didn't always meant that she was mad, but something here was off, and he didn't know what that was.

 

So he decided to cut the tension himself _once again._

 

“Abby?” he called her name softly, she didn't answer, nor she stopped her frantic walk. “Abby?” he tried again, nothing even this time.

 

 _Enough is enough_. He told himself, stopping abruptly, forcing her to do the same.

 

It was then, when she stopped and turned toward him abruptly, that he noticed that she was holding back tears.

 

_Why was she crying?_

 

“Abby...” he whispered her name in the softest of tones. His heart started beating rapidly, he didn't like it when she was upset. Abby Walters wasn't used to cry that much, but when she did, it was heartbreaking to witness. “What's wrong?” he asked again, approaching her. His other hand covered the one that was already holding hers, and he squeezed it gently. She was warm and slightly sweaty from the walk.

 

“Nothing is wrong.” she said, roughly. She was trying to wipe away a tear that had escaped her eyes without her consent, she was sniffing and was purposely trying to not meet his gaze.

 

“Stop lying.” he said, his voice calm but firm.

 

“I'm not lying.” she said sternly, biting at her lower lip, tilting her head on the other side, then was when she finally let go of his hand. His first instinct had been to keep her close, but he had thought better of it and had decided to let her have her personal space back if she wanted.

 

“What had happened with Jake? And I don't want to hear that nothing happened.” he said, noticing the way her shoulders jumped slightly at the mention of his name.

 

“Oh Marcus...” she whispered, still giving him her back. He clenched his jaw and waited. She kept quiet for a long moment, then turned again. A watery smile was printed over her lips, she started shaking her head, but no words came out.

 

He kept waiting.

 

Then, she finally approached him. She raised her chin and smiled softly.

 

“Would you like to go somewhere with me?” she asked in a whisper. Marcus frowned, then tilted his head.

 

“Of course.” he said without thinking, his brain not registering the lack of an answer to his previous question. At that Abby's lips turned into the softest of smiles, then she raised on her tiptoes.

 

For a moment Marcus feared she was going to do something he had imagined way too many times in his head, and whatever worry he might had few seconds before, had been wiped out by her proximity.

 

Her hands were on his cheeks in a matter of seconds, she was warm and delicate, her touch was soft and comforting. Her eyes moved briefly over his chin, lips and then stayed on his eyes for a long moment, before she moved higher and plastered a gentle, loving and damp kiss on his forehead.

 

His skin prickled at the contact, his heart flipped in his chest, he held his breath. Then, as it had started, it was over and she withdrew. Her hands left his cheeks in a smooth movement, then they fell at her sides.

 

She was looking at him intensely, it seemed as if she wasn't even blinking.

 

_He knew for sure he wasn't._

 

She was bathed in the evening sunlight, her caramelized hair the color of honey and liquid amber. Her brown eyes were deep as the dark coffee he liked to have for breakfast, her lips were the color of the peaches his mother used to make jam and her scent was still lingering on the tip of his nose. Sweet and spicy.

 

“Where?” he chocked out eventually, his lips forming the question before he could even think about it.

 

She smirked. “It's a surprise.” she whispered, before taking him by the hand and heading back to town. “Let's go, we have a trip to plan.” she said, looking him from over her shoulder, her eyes gleaming with a new challenging light.

 

He was speechless, while following her, his hand secured in hers. He didn't know what had just happened, nor he knew what Abby wanted to do or where she wanted to go, but he told himself that as long as she was going to hold his hand, he didn't need to know.

 

….

 

“Paris?” he asked, widening his eyes.

 

They had arrived at her house merely a bunch of minutes ago, had purposefully avoided to encounter her mother and had sneaked into her room upstairs. She had forced him to sit on her bed, then had took a book from her library, placing it on his lap.

 

“Open it.” she had said, raising a challenging eyebrow. Marcus had smiled at the clear enthusiasm that was pouring out of her. Once the book was open, he had found himself staring at a picture of the Eiffel Tower.

 

“What's that?” he asked, blinking at her. Abby tilted her head, her hands on her hips.

 

“That's the Eiffel Tower you idiot.” she said, taking the chair of her desk and sitting down heavily.

 

“Yeah, I know that thank you.” he said, rolling his eyes when she squinted doubtfully at him. “My question is, why are you showing me this?” he said, flipping the pages, it was then that he realized it was the _Discover Europe_ book her father had bought for her few years before.

 

“Because _there_ is where we are going.” she said, tilting her head with a soft smile coloring her lips.

 

Marcus raised his eyes from the book and met her eyes.

 

“Paris?”

 

“Yes.” she said, her smile growing two sizes.

 

“You want to go to Paris?” he asked again, at that Abby rolled her eyes and took the book from his hands.

 

“Yes Marcus!” she snorted, starting to stroke the pages under her nose with dreamy eyes.

 

“I always wanted to go there, but never got a chance to do so.” she whispered, her smile had turned sad, but then she shrugged it off and fixed her eyes on him again. “So? What do you say? Do you want to go with me?” she asked, biting at her lower lip.

 

She looked nervous, as if afraid he could say no.

 

He blinked, parted his lips and then, when he couldn't find a single logical reason to refuse, he smiled and nodded.

 

“Let's do this.”

 

The way she jumped on her feet then, kicking the book on the floor in the process, caging him into a hug, told him he had made the right decision.

 

A month later they were on a plane to Paris.

 

 

 

_**July 08, 1994** _

 

 

“Oh my god.” Abby eyes widened as soon as they had entered their room. Her bag fell on the floor, along with the city map she had been reading since they had landed. She started swirling on her feet. “Oh my god.” she whispered again, her eyes seemed to getting bigger and bigger, taking in all the details.

 

The room wasn't that big, but it looked extremely cozy. The tapestry over the walls was charm pink colored, little white bouquets of flowers were painted in series all over it, every flower had a whisper of golden right in the middle, enlightening their delicate frames.

 

There was a white closet where they could put their things in, and a nightstand with a solid pink colored lampshades on it. The bathroom was small but it had space for a shower box. What had captured Abby's attention the most though, was the view from the french door.

 

She walked over it, her hands landing softly over the handholds, her eyes were wide open, her lips parted. “Marcus... look.” she said, opening it slowly. The warm summer breeze entered the room, playing with few of her strands. The sunlight cascaded over her tiny frame, bathing her in a delicate orange glow.

 

Marcus approached her, then was when he saw what she was staring at in awe.

 

The Eiffel Tower was so close, that it seemed as if they could grab it and put it in their bags. “Is that...?” he started to ask in a whisper, Abby answered him with a nod, a smile printed over her lips.

 

“Isn't it beautiful?” she said, leaning over the balcony. The warm Paris' air was sweet and gentle, embracing them into a warm hug. She was gazing at the view with pure awe dripping from her eyes, her lips stretched in the softest of smiles.

 

Marcus found himself looking back and forth between the Tower and her, eventually he fixed them on her, deciding she was a far prettier view to look at. When the thought hit him, he shook his head and turned on his heels, deciding it was better for him to start unpacking and stop being a _creep._

 

Then was when he noticed there was just _one_ bed in the room.

 

“Uh... Abby? We might have a problem here.” he said, his eyes never leaving the _infamous_ queen size bed in front of him.

 

“What?” Abby said, appearing at his side, she was still smiling. Marcus pointed his index finger in front of him.

 

“Oh.” she simply said.

 

_Oh? That's it? Oh? We have just one bed and the only thing you can say is oh?_

 

“They probably gave us the wrong room.” he said, nodding with himself, taking the key of the room out of his pocket, already heading toward the door to fix that _embarrassing mistake_.

 

“No wait Marcus!” Abby said, forcing him to stop and turn. “They didn't give us the wrong room.” she said, wrapping her arms around herself.

 

“There's just one bed Abby.” he said matter of factly.

 

“Yes, I can see that.” she said, rolling her eyes.

 

“We are two.” he said, nodding with himself, trying to do his best to not stare at the bed in the corner of the room, it was placed right in front of the window, giving it the perfect view over the tower.

 

It looked extremely comfortable, and he couldn't suddenly stop picturing himself laying on the soft mattress, Abby at his side, their hands entangled on the sheets, her messy hair sprawled over the pillows, their noses few inches from- _Stop!_

 

“It's not the wrong room Marcus.” she said, shoving her hands in the pockets of her jeans.

 

Marcus frowned. “Are you telling me you purposefully booked a room with just one bed?” he asked, tilting his head, suddenly feeling really nervous but for all different reasons.

 

Abby pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow at him, a blush creeping on her neck. “No you _idiot._ ” she muttered, “I had already booked the room, before I knew you were gonna come.” she said, taking the key from his hands. “And it was the last one, so I know for sure that they will not have another one.” she said, smiling softly at him.

 

“Oh...” he breathed out.

 

“Yeah.” she whispered back, looking at the bed and then at him. “But hey it's no big deal, it's a pretty big bed.” she said, realizing just after she had said it how it had sounded. “You know what I mean.” she muttered, before turning on her heels, heading toward the balcony again, fully blushing.

 

“Ok...” he whispered to himself, his head was nodding mechanically, while his mind was loudly shouting at him a long series of _No no no no._

 

 _I can do this._ He tried to tell himself.

 

 _You totally can't._ His mind said back.

 

 _Two weeks._ They were going to be there for _just_ two weeks. It was going to be fine.

 

When Abby entered in the room again, and flashed him a warm smile though, his mind could form just one thought: _You totally can't do this._

 

 

….

 

“How many of those do you think you can eat before exploding?” Marcus asked, laughing when Abby threw him a napkin, it crashed against his nose and he huffed it away.

 

“I'm in Paris so I _have_ to eat croissants.” she said, shoving another piece in her mouth, moaning with herself. “That's good.” she mumbled, licking the tip of her index finger.

 

“You are embarrassing me Abby.” he joked, causing her to glare at him and throw another napkin, that he managed to avoid, dodging at the right moment, it fell on the floor at their backs.

 

“Let me enjoy this Marcus!” she snorted. When he started parting his lips to say something back, she took the butter knife resting on her plate and pointed it at him. “Don't make me do this.” she growled. Marcus looked at the shiny cutlery in her grip, then back in her brown eyes.

 

“It's a butter knife, you realize that right?” he said, taking a bite from his perfectly toasted bread.

 

“Everything becomes a weapon in the right hands.” she said, lowering the knife on the table, attacking her croissant once again. Marcus shook his head and chuckled, while she kept licking butter from her fingers as a toddler.

 

They were enjoying their first french breakfast, sitting on the giant terrace of the hotel, that overlooked the city, and the tower below. Their first night hadn't gone that bad, on the contrary, they had been so tired due to jet-lag that as soon as his head had met the pillow, he had fallen asleep.

 

Abby had joined him few minutes later, but she had been so tired herself, that she was dead to the world in a matter of seconds. To his benefit, she had woken up first, so when he had opened his eyes, facing the empty side of the bed where she had been sleeping, she was already closed in the bathroom, singing a discordant french melody to herself while brushing her teeth.

 

The fact that tonight they were gonna share that same bed again, still made him feel uncomfortable, but he told himself that he could perfectly manage it. Abby was his best friend after all, they knew each other since ever, there was nothing wrong with the idea of sharing a bed to _just sleep_ while on a trip together.

 

They had slept together before, the fact that they were kids back then and that it had been a sleepover, and that they all had slept on the floor, using separated pillows and blankets.. . Well that's another story.

 

“Ok I think I am full for now.” Abby said, huffing with herself, patting her filled stomach with one of her hands.

 

“Finally.”he whispered against his cup of coffee.

 

“I heard that.” she said, pointing an accusatory finger toward him.

 

“Sorry.” he chuckled, finishing his toast in one bite. “So, what's the plan for today?” he asked. Abby at that smirked, taking the map of the city out from her bag.

 

“Let's find out together.” she whispered, leaning over it as if they were looking at a secret treasure map. Marcus smiled with himself and followed her lead.

 

They spent the rest of the morning deciding where to go. When it was almost lunch time, they decided to pick up a couple of sandwiches with them and eat them while visiting the city.

 

Abby hadn't a real plan, she just knew she wanted to see everything, from the Eiffel Tower to the Moulin Rouge, including the Arc de Triomphe, the Champs Elysees, the Louvre and basically every attraction the city had to offer.

 

A couple of hours later in the afternoon, they finally found themselves with a plan. The last thing they were going to see was the tower, not only because was the closest thing they had to their hotel, but also because, as Abby had said “ _We gotta act like real intellectual people, not just common tourists.”_

 

So they decided to start with the Rodin Museum.

 

….

 

“Although today Rodin may be considered by many as the father of modern sculpture, when he first presented his works he was actually considered vulgar.” Abby was saying, reading out loud from the _Guide to Paris Attractions_ book she had bought just few hours ago into a little shop outside of the hotel.

 

“I see.” Marcus said, nodding with himself, one finger crooked under his chin, he was trying to give her the impression that he actually got any of the things she was saying.

 

She looked at him with a soft frown engraved on her forehead. “You seem pretty into it.” she murmured, walking past the sculpture they had been staring at for a bunch of minutes, while flipping the pages of the book with lazy fingers.

 

“I am. I mean... I am interested in art.” he said, nodding with himself, while crossing his arms, tilting his head when they stopped in front of another sculpture.

 

“This is the _Bellona._ In 1879, Rodin took part in a competition to design a _Monument to the Republic_ , which would adorn the new town hall in Paris’ eighth _arrondissement_.” she started to read out loud from the book again.

 

“Did he win?” Marcus asked, squinting his eyes at the details of the sculpture. The expression of the face he was staring at was giving him an odd feeling, it looked _rebellious._

 

“No, he didn't.” Abby said, her index finger following the path of her eyes on the book in her hands. “He used a Renaissance-style helmet instead of the Phrygian cap that was specified in the competition rules.” she said, tilting her head, looking at the eyes of the bust in front of them.

 

“Here says it's probably one of his strongest work though.” she murmured, leaning her head to the side at the same time he did, then to the other, then they both frowned in sync. They probably looked like two complete idiots.

 

“I see.” he whispered, nodding with himself, leaning forward to capture more details of the face engraved for eternity into that old piece of bronze.

 

“What are you looking at?” Abby asked him suddenly, she had leaned forward herself, and was now whispering in his ear. Her hot breath tickled the sensitive skin over his neck.

 

“I...” he started to say, trying to form a coherent thought, but she was so close to him now, that her scent had started invading his senses. She smelled as pink pepper and almond oil, and the delicate notes of the orange juice she had with her sandwich earlier, were filling his nostrils, making him feel dizzy.

 

He cleared his throat and withdrew, forcing Abby to do the same.

 

“You're ok?” she asked him, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

 

“I am. Yeah.” he said, focusing his attention to the bust in front of him, trying to ignore the tiny girl at his side that smelled so good that he was having a hard time fighting against the desire to sniff into her scent once again.

 

“Ok...” she murmured, “Let's move on then.” she added, before turning on her heels and starting to walk to another sculpture few feet from them.

 

As soon as she was far away enough, he let out a long sigh, closing his eyes and inhaling in the cool air of the museum. As soon as he blinked his eyes open again though, he found himself searching for her.

 

When he saw her few meters away, he caught her looking at him while biting at her lower lip, she turned abruptly and bowed her head to her book, and he wasn't sure, but he thought she saw her _blushing._

 

_What was that about?_

 

But before he could linger too much into the new feeling that was starting to spread inside him, Abby moved forward, putting more distance between them, forcing him to follow to not lose track of her.

 

 

….

 

Dozens of sculptures and paintings later, they were walking on the Alexander Bridge, heading toward the Champes d'Elysees. Abby was quiet, her eyes were jumping from the winged horses statuses to the nymphs, taking in all the details with admiration and curiosity.

 

Marcus was silent as well, but he was far more interested in looking at _her_ than anything else.

 

“You should stop doing _that_.” Abby said at some point, without meeting his gaze. Marcus didn't answer, and kept looking at her while walking, he almost crashed into a group of kids, but managed to pass through them without incidents.

 

When he was able to move around without fearing of crashing against anybody else though, Abby wasn't at his side anymore. For a moment his blood ran cold, his muscles tensed and his heart dropped in his stomach. Then his eyes scanned the crowd around him, and he spotted her leaning over the rail, her eyes lost into the Seine flowing below them.

 

He silently approached her, and leaned his back against the warm concrete, scanning the view at the other side of the bridge.

 

“I lied to you.” she murmured suddenly. Marcus at first didn't know what she meant, and was about to ask her to clarify her statement, but she didn't give him a chance to do so.

 

“When you asked me if something had happened between me and Jake. I told you that nothing was wrong...” her voice was low and rough, Marcus kept quiet, giving her time to explain herself.

 

“Something was wrong... something _is_ wrong.” she said then, frowning to the river expanding under them. She shook her head and exhaled deeply.

 

“You want to tell me what it is?” Marcus asked, peeking at her without turning completely. He felt as if she was holding back, she looked _afraid_ somehow, and also in some kind of _pain_. He didn't like that, but he also knew that he had to be careful. Abby was strong, he wasn't afraid for her to get hurt that much, for whatever reason, but she was also really good at keeping things from people.

 

It was in her nature to avoid saying what wasn't necessary to others, especially if she cared for them. He knew that because he had seen it many times along the years, when she had been keeping secrets from her parents, avoiding to tell them something that was upsetting her, just because afraid they would worry too.

 

She didn't want pity, nobody really wants that, but she also didn't want to be a _burden._ Not that her parents had ever felt that way, on the contrary, they had always been there to support her and help her if needed. But Abby was stubborn, and had always preferred to face her problems on her own.

 

In this case Marcus didn't know what was wrong, what he knew now was that something was there though, and it had something to do with their best friend. Jake and Abby had never really fought, yes they had argued from time to time, but nothing too serious. It had always been him the one with whom Abby had fought the most.

 

With time it had become routine, they would disagree on something, bicker a little about it, then all was forgotten, or at least the most of the time that was the case. Luckily for them, nothing had never been that serious to keep them apart for more than a couple of days.

 

_In the end, they would always come back to each other._

 

That was why it was worrying him to see her like this, and to know that something was still off with Jake. It had been more than a month since he had seen him storm out of her room. He had tried to reach out for him, but he had always been too busy with his study.

 

It was rare for him to shy like that from them, even when he had an important exam to give, but it could happen, things were getting harder since he had started college, he didn't want to leave his town nor his family, so he was studying from home, that made it all a lot harder.

 

Thinking back at it now though, it seemed as if whatever had happened between him and Abby, was still affecting the both of them, and consequently him. It had always been the three of them, so if something was off between two, the third one would be stuck in the middle, not so sure on what to do.

 

“Not yet.” Abby said, looking him in the eyes, withdrawing from the rail, approaching him slowly. “I still need to figure it out myself.” she whispered, tilting her head. It took a moment for Marcus to understand that she was referring to his previous question.

 

He had lost himself in thoughts so deeply, that he had almost forgot.

 

“Come on now, let's keep going.” she whispered, securing her arm around his. Her delicate fingers squeezed his bicep, and she started walking again, forcing him to follow her. They remained quiet after that. Marcus lost in his thoughts, Abby in hers.

 

….

 

It was almost dinner time, when Marcus and Abby found themselves back in the hotel room. Dozens of pictures were weighting in his backpack, he had taken with him his father's instant camera, when Abby had found out she had started demanding him to use it “ _So we will always remember this trip”_ she had said.

 

_As if there was any chance he could forget it._

 

He was sorting them out by type, while Abby was taking a shower. The landscapes went in the pile to his left, on the right there were the ones where you could see mostly architecture and art. Then on his lap he had collected the ones he cared for the most.

 

In those pictures, Paris was as a silent canvas, softly blurred on the background, if you weren't that careful, you could easily miss it. What Marcus had tried his best to capture, wasn't the city, but her.

 

Abby was in every picture, sometimes she was smiling directly at him, looking from over her shoulder, her long hair flowing in the wind, or she was smiling brightly, her eyes wide open. In other shots she was sitting, tilting her head to the side, her eyes closed, unaware of the boy behind the camera few feet from her.

 

He was staring at the last picture he had taken, right after they had entered the room. She was standing on her tiptoes, gazing toward the Tower, her hair loosened over her shoulders, she had kicked her shoes off as soon as the door had closed at their backs, so she was barefoot.

 

Her rolling stones shirt reached her to the waist, a little strap of skin was visible between it and the waistband of her light jeans. She was smiling, even if it wasn't visible, he knew that. Her hands were gripping at the railing, her head slightly tilted to the side. The evening breeze had started swirling right when he had decided to freeze that moment for ever.

 

She looked peaceful, even if her face wasn't visible and her expression was unknown to whom looked at the picture, he had been there, so he knew. He new the story behind the picture, to everybody else that was just a pretty shot of a pretty girl looking at something outside of her room.

 

To him it was a pretty shot of his beautiful best friend, while she gazed with awe and serenity at the Eiffel Tower, like she had dreamed to do since she was a little kid. It held a peaceful feeling. He laid on his back over the mattress, keeping the picture pressed between his hand and his chest.

 

He closed his eyes and sighed, a soft smile spread over his lips.

 

“Don't you dare fall asleep Marcus!” Abby's voice startled him, he opened slightly one of his eyes and peeked at her.

 

“I wasn't sleeping.” he mumbled, noticing that she was wearing nothing more than a towel wrapped around herself.

 

_Does this woman even know what decency is?_

 

“Yeah sure.” Abby muttered, walking past him, heading toward the closet, opening it and then tilting her head, her eyes traveling from a piece of fabric to the other.

 

Marcus didn't want to look as a creep _again,_ but he found himself turning his head just enough so he could look at her, and then he simply stared. She raised on her tiptoes, the muscles and nerves in her ankles tensed, her hand reached out for a summer dress she had wore a couple of times back home.

 

Then she put it back, a heavy snort leaving her lungs, she moved to the next one. Marcus smiled with himself, and slowly, reached for his camera. He knew he had to be fast, a soon as he would take the shot, she would know, the room was silent and his camera made that unmistakable noise that would tell her she had been _caught._

 

She tilted her head again, one hand secured on her chest, keeping the towel properly closed, the other traveled over another dress, she took it and right while she was looking at it, Marcus took the shot. As soon as the sound invaded the quiet room, Abby turned toward him, frowning slightly, as he had expected.

 

“What are you doing?” she asked him, turning completely, the dress hanging from her index finger.

 

“Making memories.” he said, smiling with himself, sitting up, his legs crossed.

 

“I don't need to remember... _this_.” she said, looking at herself wearing nothing more than a white towel, her hair still wet, sticking at her bare skin uncomfortably.

 

“You are beautiful.” he murmured without thinking, at his words Abby fell quiet, she blinked slowly and then hummed with herself.

 

“I should change...” she whispered in a feeble voice, her eyes were shifty now, and she was blushing slightly. Marcus couldn't help himself and when his hands raised the camera once again, and he took the shot, Abby hadn't the time to get what was going on before the picture had already been taken.

 

In this one, Abby was smiling shyly, looking at her bare feet. Her choice of outfit was hanging at her side, a black clingy dress he had never seen her wearing, her cheeks were the color of strawberries and her lower lip was softly trapped between her teeth.

 

_Beautiful indeed._

 

“Stop that!” she yelled, but a chuckle bubbled out of her lungs before she could stop it.

 

“Sorry!” he yelled back at her, when she had stormed inside of the bathroom again, closing the door at her back. Truth be told, when the pictures were ready in his hands, and he had taken a long look at the both of them, he didn't feel sorry at all.

 

….

 

When Marcus had closed the last buttons of his black shirt, he took a long look at himself in the bathroom's mirror. His hair was messier than usual, still slightly damp, a curl was hanging over his forehead, he had tried to put it back, but it had kept falling down stubbornly. Eventually he had just snorted impatiently and had let it there.

 

His black shirt was elegant but not too fancy, the simple black color gave it the usual _perfect-for-basically-every-kind-of-event_ look, and his dark jeans defused a bit the _too tied up_ look he was afraid to wear for an informal dinner with his best friend.

 

When he stepped outside the bathroom, his eyes searched for her in the little room, then he remembered she had yelled at him that she was gonna wait for him on the terrace. So he took the key of the room and his leather jacket, and stormed outside.

 

When the elevator opened, he found himself in the little entry that leaded to the big terrace, where the guests could decide to have dinner, while gazing at the beauty that was Paris at night. He stepped outside, the warm night breeze embraced him, messing up with his thick black hair.

 

His eyes scanned the tables in front of him, some were already occupied, there were few couples gazing into each other's eyes with love, others were holding hands, some were talking quietly. There were some families too, parents begging their kids to behave, while they stubbornly kept refusing to sit still.

 

He smiled when a little kid yelled when his mother tried to but a napkin around his neck, then was when he heard her calling for him.

 

“Over here Marcus.”

 

He blinked his eyes in the darkness that had started to envelop the city into a tight hug, then he spotted her. She was sitting in a table set for two, in the farthest corner of the terrace, from there they had a perfect view over the Tower and the city, and were far away from everybody to feel like they were almost alone.

 

The city lights were trembling in the dark landscape at her back. A couple of candles were gleaming in the center of the table, casting shy strokes of light over her features. She was smiling at him, tilting her head.

 

In that moment Marcus regretted not having his camera. She was _breathtaking._ She was always beautiful, of course, but tonight, wearing that simple clingy black dress, her hair flowing in curls over her shoulders, her tanned skin bathed in the amber light... she was glowing, and he found himself unable to stop staring.

 

_Again._

 

“Marcus?” she called for him, frowning. Marcus blinked and cleared his throat, approaching the table, sitting right in front of her.

 

“You're ok?” she whispered, leaning slightly, causing her neckline to fall a inch or two down her chest, exposing the valley between her breasts for a fraction of a second. The candlelight shivered over her inviting collarbone, dancing with the shape of her bones and the line of muscles and nerves that ran from her chin to her chest, it all happened rapidly, but it was enough for his heartbeat to quicken the pace.

 

“Yeah.” he managed to choke out, swallowing down deeply, adverting his eyes from her.

 

_Get a grip on yourself._

 

“So, are you hungry?” Abby asked, deciding to not voice her doubts any further, tilting her head and smiling softly. Marcus hummed, focusing his attention on the menu a waitress had conveniently just brought him. Abby fell silent as well, and started roaming her eyes over the kinds of food displayed in the menu.

 

Then, when the urgency to look again at her won over him, Marcus looked up. His eyes started dancing over her features, she had a light bronze shadow over her eyelids, her eyelashes were incredibly long, and way darker than usual. Her lips were caressed with a veil of gloss, that enlightened the natural color of her skin, making them look extremely inviting.

 

_Stop right there cowboy._

 

She must have sensed his eyes on her, because suddenly she looked up. When she caught him staring, she smiled softly. It took him few seconds to find the strength to smile back. She tilted her head, her eyes traveled slowly from his hair to his chest, then back up again.

 

“You look good.” she whispered, her voice rough and thick. He started nodding mechanically, his eyes glued to her features, taking in all the details. From her cheeks that were slightly reddened from the sun, to the curve of her lips, that were now offering him a soft teasing smirk.

 

“You look good too.” he murmured, and at his words Abby adverted her gaze, humming quietly.

 

“Thank you.” she whispered softly, so softly that for a moment he had missed it. He kept staring, suddenly not that hungry anymore, but far more interested in the beautiful girl sitting few inches from him.

 

“So, what do you want to eat?” she asked, her eyes still not meeting his. It was then that Marcus' brain finally started working again, and he managed to take his eyes off of her, focusing again on the menu.

 

“Let's see what they have to offer.” he murmured.

 

….

 

It was almost _embarrassing_ how affected he was by her. He couldn't seem able to focus on something that wasn't her. The food was great, if Abby's moans of pleasure had been anything to go by. But he didn't really care. Nor he cared to gaze at the beautiful night landscape at her back.

 

The glowing lights were indeed beautiful, the sparkling tower was amazing yes, but _she_ was far more beautiful and interesting. Whenever she laughed, smiled, or simply looked at him, his heart would lip in his chest, his stomach would turn upside down with every quick raise of her eyebrow, or with every teasing smirk she put on her lips.

 

_Her lips._

 

It wasn't the first time he found himself thinking of how soft and sweet her lips looked, he had to admit. But tonight, for some reason, they looked far more inviting than usual. The problem wasn't that he found her lips desirable, he was a man and she was a woman, they both were single and neither had someone back home waiting for them, it was just a natural impulse for him to imagine how it was to kiss her lips. He hadn't been able to kiss anyone very often lately.

 

The problem was that he was starting to find himself staring way too much, and she was starting to notice. The first time it happened, she was talking about what she wanted to do the next day. He had his chin propped over his hands, the fork swinging from the tip of his fingers.

 

She was looking him in the eyes, her salmon tartar forgotten on her plate, plans for the day ahead of them rolling down her tongue rapidly. Her eyes were gleaming with the reflection of the trembling candles between them, she seemed unable to stop smiling.

 

She was so beautiful, that Marcus' eyes fell over her lips right after she had started talking, and he shamelessly kept them there. It was after a bunch of minutes, where she hadn't stopped talking once, that she fell quiet.

 

Marcus registered the sudden silent, her lips weren't parting anymore, she had closed them tight, and wasn't speaking. Still, he didn't stop staring.

 

“Marcus?” she murmured, her lips dancing smoothly around the six letters forming his name, Marcus sighed out softly.

 

“Mh?” he mumbled, without meeting her gaze. It was then that she cleared her throat, and raised her napkin to her lips, wiping away invisible traces of food from her chin, breaking the trance he had lost himself into.

 

“Sorry, you were saying?” he cleared his throat, blinking in her direction, trying to make contact with her eyes. But she was bowing her head now, biting nervously at her lower lip- _stop looking at her lips you creep!_

 

“Nothing.” she murmured, bringing her glass to her mouth, taking a long sip of white wine. “So... what would _you_ like to do tomorrow?” she asked, trying to defuse the sudden tension that had started growing around them.

 

She focused over her plate then, eating quietly and slowly, piece after piece, avoiding his stare as best as she could. She looked _embarrassed_ and _uncomfortable._

 

_Great job._

 

He started talking freely then, about all the things they could see, the places they could visit. He was feeling a complete jerk, he had embarrassed her, staring as the creep he was at her lips while she had been talking to him, trying to make some conversation, as people usually do.

 

At first Abby kept avoiding his stare, but when he started talking about the trip they could make to the Louvre, and then started listing the things they could do once at the Moulin Rouge, she seemed to relax again.

 

Her muscles softened under her skin, and at some point she looked up at him again, she also flashed him a quick smile when he made a joke. When she passed him her plate to try his _foie_ _gras,_ and handed him half of her tartar, he fell quiet and started eating in comfortable silence with her.

 

They finished their _entrees_ without adding another word. Sometimes they looked at each other and shared a quick smile, but their eyes would immediately travel somewhere else, attracted by what happened around them. It could be a family laughing and eating few tables from them, or it could be a couple taking a picture with the dark landscape at their backs.

 

It was when she spotted a young couple three tables from them, smiling at each other, holding hands over the table clot, their eyes diving one into the other, that she sighed out heavily, attracting his attention.

 

“What is it?” Marcus asked, putting his fork down over his empty plate. Abby's fingers were dancing lazily on the rim of her crystal glass, making a buzzing sound that reverberated in the quiet murmur of voices around them.

 

“I was thinking.” she said, her eyes never leaving that couple that seemed to intrigue her so much. Marcus followed her gaze, and noticed the way the two were now slightly leaning toward each other, sharing a featherly kiss.

 

“About what?” he asked, focusing again on her. She was frowning, her lips pursed, she seemed really focused on some thought, it seemed as if something was bothering her, and she was trying to get what that was.

 

“About love.” she whispered then, right when a waitress had approached them, smiling and taking their empty plates away. Abby used that chance to advert her gaze from the couple, clearing her throat.

 

“What about it?” Marcus asked, as soon as they were alone again, intertwining his hands under his chin. Abby looked at him and smiled softly.

 

“I don't know.” her nails were now grazing at her cool glass, her eyes following the dance of the bubbles in her sparkling white wine. “I was asking myself if I will ever have that.” she said, taking the glass to her lips, sipping slowly, raising her eyes, fixing them into his.

 

“You never felt that kind of love?” he asked, even if he knew the answer already. At least he thought he knew. If Abby had ever had a boyfriend, she had never once mentioned it, not to him at least. Suddenly he started asking himself if she would ever keep such a thing secret from him, what if she had a boyfriend but was keeping that part of her life private on purpose?

 

 _She would never do such a thing._ _What if she did? What if you are the only one that doesn't know?_

 

Thought after thought, his mind became loud quiet rapidly, distracting him from what Abby was saying.

 

“Hey.” she pinched him on the arm, when it was clear that he wasn't listening. He blinked in her direction, she was leaning slightly toward him, frowning, her lips slightly parted. “What's wrong with you tonight?” she asked him, leaning back on her chair, taking another long sip of her wine.

 

“Sorry.” he mumbled, clearing his throat, running a hand in his thick hair. He suddenly needed some fresh air, and it was ironic, considering they were in the middle of an open terrace, the warm summer breeze completely embracing them.

 

The last thing he needed was fresh air, and yet he felt as if he was _suffocating_.

 

“You seem a bit lost.” she murmured, “Did I say something wrong?” she tilted her head, squinting her eyes, she was trying to read him. The thing was that Marcus knew that more sooner than later, she was gonna find out what was wrong if he didn't get a grip on himself.

 

“No. Sorry, I am just tired.” he said, nodding with himself, swallowing back a knot of tension that had formed in his throat. “You were saying?” he asked, busying himself with his glass, swallowing one sip after the other avidly, it was empty before Abby had a chance to blink.

 

“You asked me something, remember?” she said, smiling.

 

“Right. Right.” he said, pursing his lips when the acrid wine flew down his throat. “So, what's your answer then?” he asked, his hands traveling fast on the table clot, in search of something they could focus on, to keep him busy over anything else other than the though of her and the possibility that she was secretly engaged.

 

“No. I never felt that kind of love.” she said, lifting a new and odd weight from his heart, leaning her head in the palm of her hand. Her long hair fell on one side, starting to swing in the warm air of the night. “That's why it makes me wonder.” she added, looking at him.

 

“You are young Abby, you'll get there.” he said, his hands were toying with a bread-stick, his stomach had suddenly closed on itself, and he didn't feel like eating at all.

 

“You think so?” she asked, circling her fingers on the foot of her glass. Her eyes were once again focused over the sparkling liquid, ignoring the rest of the world, lost in her private thoughts.

 

“Yes of course.” he said, nodding, even if she wasn't looking.

 

“You think somebody can really fall in love with me?” she asked him then, biting at her lower lip. Marcus didn't need to think about it, he answered by instinct.

 

“Absolutely.” at that she looked up at him again, smiling shyly.

 

“What makes you say that?” she asked him, a playful smile over her lips. Marcus wasn't smiling though, he had turned incredibly serious, it was as if this conversation felt way too important for him, he had to make it clear to her that he was saying an undeniable truth.

 

He had to clarify that Abby Walters, to him, was the easiest person to love on the entire planet.

 

“Because we are talking about you Abby.” he said, his voice lowering to a guttural whisper, Abby was looking at him with wide eyes now, fully listening. “Many men will fall for you Abby.” he said, careful to look her straight in the eyes. He could feel how his stomach twisted at his own words, how his heartbeat had quickened, almost racing.

 

“It's impossible not to love you.” he added in a soft whisper, and when she blinked and parted her lips, he realized what he had just said, how much he had let out. He blinked, feeling taken aback by his own statement.

 

_What are you doing?_

 

“Marcus...” his name whispered from her lips like that, in that rough and smoky voice of her, it made his bones shiver and tremble.

 

“I mean it.” he said, nodding firmly, suddenly not able to restrain himself from keep talking, now that he had started, it felt as if he couldn't stop. “You will find someone, probably more than one.” he kept saying, and Abby looked completely captured by his words, her glass of wine was forgotten, her fingers were now few inches from his, she was still leaning her head over her hand, but she wasn't shying away from him, she was completely focused.

 

“You are the kind of woman that deserves to be loved Abby.” he said, the bread-stick rolled down his fingers, and he moved his hand toward hers, covering her warm fingers in a soft embrace, a gesture his brain hadn't the time to register before his body made it on its own accord. “Trust me on this.” he said, his eyes were diving into hers, he was hypnotized by the way the lights around them were dancing in the rich brown of those almond eyes of her.

 

She wasn't blinking, nor talking. Her lips still slightly parted, she seemed to be holding her breath. He smiled at her, a quick turn of his lips, and her eyes fell over his mouth. She kept them there a moment too long, and his blood ran first cold and then extremely warm.

 

Shivers started running in his veins, suddenly he was really aware of how close they were, and how warm and delicate her hand felt under his. A soft breeze passed between them, and sneaked through her hair, her scent reached his nose, his brain was invaded by her perfume in a matter of seconds.

 

 _Almond oil, pink pepper, vanilla._ His tongue was water in a matter of seconds. He clenched his jaw, and swallowed hard.

 

_Stop._

 

“You deserve to be loved too...” she whispered, so softly that for a moment he missed it. “One day you'll have a woman at your side... and that woman will be very lucky.” she added, looking him in the eyes again.

 

For a moment her words hanged in the silence between them. She didn't advert her eyes, nor she blinked, they stared at each other for a long while. Until the same waitress of before, appeared with two plates in hands, and broke the spell.

 

She sat the plates down, and with a quick smile apologized for the interruption. They didn't complain though, and smiled at each other, two matching deep smirks engraved in the corner of their lips. When they started eating, their eyes were still locked. Until they focused their attention on the food under their nose, and finished them without speaking a single word.

 

Their eyes never stopped _talking_ though, searching for each other at every given chance. When their dinner was over, they rose in sync from their chairs, shared a quick smile, and walked to the hall side by side.

 

When they found themselves outside the hotel, they looked at each other another time, and started walking in silence. When her hand fell in his, he didn't shy away. His fingers enveloped hers, and a soft smile appeared on her lips. The hand stayed.

 

….

 

They walked through the warm night, losing themselves into the crowd of people. Their eyes jumped from a sparkling light to the other, taking in every detail the shadows of the night were gently covering.

 

Smells, sounds and voices enveloped them. They laughed and talked, while their feet kept walking them around the city, as if they had done this a thousand times. It felt so comfortable to be just the two of them, in the middle of that ocean of people. It felt as if they were alone, while their bodies sneaked between other dozens of strangers, their hands never loosening the grip they had on each other.

 

Different faces, voices, cultures and languages moved around them, making it clear how many people were visiting Paris at the same time, but it still felt as if they were completely alone. It felt as if the city was offering them a chance to be together, while the rest of the world waited on the background, in a revered silence.

 

It was maybe the sweet summer breeze around them, the wine flowing in their veins, or the excitement of being so many miles from home, but they didn't really need to explain it, and enjoyed the feeling while it lasted.

 

Abby didn't seem able to stop smiling all night long, her cheeks reddened from the warmth of the night and the wine. Her hair was glowing, bathed by the flashing lights of the city, it was framing her face as if she was a walking portrait, mesmerizing and hypnotizing as a real piece of art. Marcus felt as the happiest man on earth, the weight of her hand in his made his heart felt extremely light, his muscles felt liquid under his skin, and he couldn't stop smiling as well.

 

They felt good, happy, in peace. Every worry, problem, responsibility, everything for that night was forgotten, nothing mattered, except the two of them, sitting in front of the Eiffel Tower, while it sparkled in front of them, in that pitch black summer night.

 

“I love this.” she whispered at some point, sighing out with a smile. Marcus hummed, and turned toward her, her eyes were half open, she was tilting her head to the side, her fingers were playing with his.

 

“I love it too.” he whispered back, she closed her eyes at his words and hummed, tilting her head toward him, until she leaned completely and landed it on his shoulder. She stayed there, her hand enveloped his in a soft but tight hug, and he closed his eyes.

 

His head turned toward her, and he found himself diving his nose into her hair before he could even think of doing it. She smelled good, as always, and she was warm and solid, a concrete presence at his side, his heart started pounding rapidly in his rib-cage.

 

She chuckled throatily, her joy reverberated throughout her body, and he felt it shiver on his own skin, through the fabric of his jacket. He smiled, nose deep in her hairline, he sniffed her one more time, before his hand traveled instinctively toward her cheek, and he stroked her delicate skin. He felt the way her lips stretched into a smile, his thumb grazed the little wrinkle that was deepening on her soft cheek.

 

One day, years from now, that wrinkle would engrave permanently in her soft and spotless skin, reminding her of the thousands of smiles she had shared along the years, of the happiness she had felt in her youth.

 

He pressed a long deep kiss on her hair then, his eyes shut, he kissed her as if he wanted to mark her with the happiness he felt. The happiness of being with her of all people, in a city so far away from their home, holding her so close to him that if he leaned back, she would fall with him and crash onto the concrete floor.

 

Time seemed to slow down the pace, while his lips were pressed against her caramelized locks, then he started to withdrew, slowly, his warm breath bouncing from her hair to his nose, he breathed her in one last time and then raised his chin again, focusing his attention to the tower sparkling in front of them.

 

Abby didn't move nor talked after that, she seemed to be frozen in place, her hand was still in his, she was breathing quietly. What Marcus couldn't see, was the blush that had spread all over her cheeks and neck, nor he could feel how her body heat had raised, or see that she was suddenly blinking back tears.

 

Abby had tears in her eyes yes, tears of confused happiness, a happiness she had never felt, but that now was crashing onto her as a cold shower. She was happy but also confused and afraid. Afraid of all the possibilities that were opening in front of her now, of all the chances she had never once tried to get, afraid of all the questions she had never asked, but that were now demanding answers.

 

Marcus wasn't aware of any of that, eventually she managed to calm her racing heart, and was able to look up at him again. He was smiling while looking at the nocturnal landscape expanding in front of them. It was dark, but a street lamp was giving her a chance to see his features, and for a moment the thought _handsome_ formed in her brain.

 

She smiled to herself, thinking of how true her previous words felt now. He would find a woman, he would fall in love with her, and she would be the luckiest woman on earth. With that thought engraving in her brain, she closed her eyes, diving her nose in the fabric of the leather jacket he was wearing. It smelled as him, that unique musky and earthy scent she had learned to distinguish along the years. She breathed him in deeply, and then looked up again.

 

His smile had grew deeper, and his eyes seemed to sparkle even from this angle. Then she followed a wild instinct that came right from her heart and leaned closer toward him. Her hand traveled to his cheek, her fingers pulsed when they made contact with his soft skin. She moved closer, and when she found herself few inches from him, she closed the gap and pressed her lips against his cheek.

 

It was a deep and intense kiss, way stronger than the one she had offered him one month ago, when he had accepted her invitation to go somewhere unknown with her. Marcus tensed under her touch, and she couldn't see it, but he had closed his eyes. Their hearts were beating in harmony, fast and hard, rumbling as thunders into their system, pulsing a rush of life into their veins.

 

She kept her lips on his skin a little longer, then she withdrew, a long deep sigh came out of her throat and made his skin prickle. She smiled with herself and leaned her forehead against his temple.

 

“I'm so happy to be here with you.” she said then, keeping her voice low, as if she was sharing a secret. Marcus was quiet at first, then his hand moved toward the one she was still keeping pressed against his cheek.

 

“I am happy too.” he said, his voice so low and heavy that Abby's heart dropped in her chest, every nerve in her back prickled to life, and her muscles turned liquid under her skin. She blinked her eyes open then and looked at him, he was holding her hand against his cheek, his dark eyes searching for hers.

 

She smiled and cupped his cheek with her other hand, then she leaned closer and adjusted her forehead against his, she closed her eyes once again. “Let's go get some sleep.” she murmured.

 

At first he didn't move, nor blink, she smiled and hopped off the wall they had been sitting on, and he followed. They walked back to the hotel while holding hands, their hearts light in their chest, the smiles on their lips were shy but looked almost dazzling into the dark warm night.

 

….

 

The second night they shared together, passed on quietly and in peace. They didn't talk that much before they had changed and washed their teeth. Then they had simply laid down on the soft mattress, facing each other.

 

It was Abby whom spoke first.

 

“Have you ever felt that?” she asked him in a whisper.

 

“What?” Marcus asked, instinctively lowering his voice to a whisper himself. The presence of a bed under them and the pitch black enveloping the room, were pushing the both of them to be quiet.

 

“Love.” she said, her eyes were catching some lights from the city outside, and he could see them shimmering slightly in the darkness around them. He pondered about her question, his heart beating heavily and loudly in his chest. The room was so quiet that he feared she could hear it.

 

“No.” he said, feeling how his stomach twisted at his words. He told himself he wasn't lying, but something inside of him seemed to disagree. Abby took his answer in and then nodded softly.

 

“You will.” she whispered, her hand traveled toward him, and she stroked a wild curl behind his ear. “You will Marcus.” she whispered again, and he couldn't see her, but it sounded as if she was smiling.

 

“You will too Abby.” he said, while she started closing her eyes slowly. After a couple of minutes, that he had spent listening to the quiet murmur of her breathing turning from steady to slow and lazy, he closed his eyes as well.

 

They drifted to sleep together, her hand few inches from his chest, where his heart was beating in a peaceful and serene harmony.

 

….

 

What Paris had in store for them, remained unknown, until the first week had passed. They enjoyed themselves, visiting every famous place, every museum, every beautiful garden or corner of the city.

 

They tasted the food, enjoyed the sun, the views. They talked and talked, and laughed as they had never done before. It all felt so peaceful, that at some point it had almost seemed _ridiculous_ how smoothly everything was going.

 

Even the fact that they had to share just one bed didn't seem to be a problem anymore. Or at least, it wasn't considerable as a bad thing.

 

Marcus had to admit that falling to sleep and waking up with Abby breathing quietly at his side, wasn't a bad thing at all. Some nights she would move in her sleep, and he would wake up with one of her bare legs or arm draped over him. Other times, she would inadvertently spread her hair all over his face.

 

He would wake up with a huff and a snort, chuckling with himself, putting her wild locks back in order on her pillow. In the end they had found a rhythm. They would fall asleep while talking in quiet murmurs, wishing the other good dreams, before drifting off basically at the same time, and if in the morning they found themselves so close that their bodies were basically touching, they did their best to not talk about it.

 

And so, night after night, the first week ended.

 

They both had received several calls from home, and had spent few hours talking to their parents about all the things they had seen, all the food they had tried, and all the plans they had for the incoming days.

 

Their parents missed them, and they shared the same nostalgic feeling, but when they found themselves sitting on their bed, looking at the pictures Marcus had taken, that same feeling dissipated quiet rapidly, and happiness and joy invaded their hearts once again.

 

It was on Wednesday of the second week that _something_ happened. Something that could have cleared up things for the both of them immediately, but that instead went almost unnoticed.

 

….

 

They were having breakfast, butter croissants for her and french toast for him. Two cups of coffee were steaming in front of them, to Marcus it was starting almost to feel all too comfortable. He could get used to this, he had to admit.

 

Waking up basically at the same time with her, dressing up while she brushed her teeth, walking side by side to the table waiting for them, sitting down and sharing breakfast together, all of that felt comfortable.

 

Filling two mugs instead of just one with coffee, made his heart sing in his chest. Picking up her favorite croissants, careful to get enough for her hungry stomach, made him feel important. Having breakfast with Abby was starting to become a _habit,_ one that he could easily grow fond of.

 

Abby was roaming her eyes over the Paris map she had kept with her since they had arrived. Many red crosses were marked over some names, those were the places they had already visited. Blue circles were instead around the ones they _had_ to see before leaving.

 

“We still need to go to Montmartre.” she said, a piece of croissant rolling slowly in the corner of her mouth.

 

“Right.” Marcus murmured, sipping at his coffee. “We could go there today.” he added, before taking a giant bite of his toast. Abby mumbled something he didn't quiet catch, licking the tip of her pinkie finger, then she raised her voice, her eyes glued to the map.

 

“I don't know... we still have to go to the Jewish Art Museum though, we could do all today, that was our plan anyway...” she said, her voice low and thoughtful. Marcus hummed and nodded with himself, before her words registered in his brain.

 

_That was our plan anyway..._

 

He frowned, when his brain couldn't find a memory of them having that kind of conversation. He wanted to ask her what she meant with _our plan,_ but before he could do so, she sighed out and smiled at him.

 

“Let's do this today, so we will not have to travel that far away from the hotel later.” she said, tilting her head, shoving in her mouth the last piece of her breakfast. Marcus smiled instinctively and nodded.

 

“Sounds like a plan.” he said, every thought about her previous statement all forgotten.

 

….

 

Friday was when the _dress_ happened, setting everything into motion.

 

Marcus was having a solitary walk while Abby was taking a shower before dinner. He had to make a call to his mother, and when they had shared their goodbyes, and she had repeatedly reminded him how much she loved him, the evening sun had looked too inviting to not take advantage of Abby's lateness.

 

She wasn't ready yet due to a crisis over what choice of outfit she should be wearing for dinner, since she had used basically all of her dresses already, and apparently to her, that was a big deal that Marcus couldn't quiet understand. So he had sneaked outside the hotel, losing himself in the crowd of busy people filling the city.

 

His hands in the pockets of his pants, Marcus was smiling fondly with himself, while his eyes scanned the little shops scattered all over the road. He knew he hadn't that much time and couldn't travel too far away, but his feet kept walking him from a shop to another.

 

He was mentally listing all the interesting things he was seeing, so it would be easier for him to come back before going home, and pick up some souvenirs for the people waiting for him back home. It was when he was about to turn on his heels and head back to the hotel, that he saw _it._

 

It was nothing particularly fancy, nor it was meant to attract that much attention, but it was undeniably beautiful. The dress was swinging in the evening air, it was hanging all by itself, far away from the rest of the merchandise the shop soled. It looked comfortable, light, beautiful in one word _perfect._

 

He moved his hand in search of his wallet before he could even think of it, and he entered the store with a wild grin printed over his lips. When he had the white dress secured in a bag hanging from his hand, he walked back to the hotel.

 

He didn't know if it would fit her, she was slim and tiny, so it wasn't that hard for something to look nice on her, it still could not fit though, but he hadn't been able to stop picturing her wearing it since his eyes had landed on it.

 

He just hoped she would like it.

 

….

 

“What?” Abby snorted, when he entered the hotel room and spotted her sitting on the floor, her usual white towel wrapped around her body, legs crossed, all of her dresses scattered over the floor.

 

“Gosh... you really have nothing to wear.” he mumbled, counting in his head how many cute summer dresses were surrounding his best friend. _Eight,_ she had eight different dresses, two pairs of pants, six shirts and even three different jackets.

 

That was a great amount of stuff for someone who had _nothing to wear._

 

“Unlike you Marcus, I like to wear different things on different days.” she growled, standing up, throwing on the floor the navy blue dress she had been glaring at when he had entered the room.

 

“You could have picked more then.” he said, meaning it as a joke, a lopsided grin hanging from the corner of his lips. His best friend though didn't seem on the mood to join his amusement, and glared at him fiercely.

 

“What's that?” she asked him, looking at his bag, while starting to collect her dresses from the floor, discarding each one of them on the bed with a loud snort.

 

“Oh...” Marcus said, peeking at the little bag swinging at his side. “A convenient solution maybe?” he said, handing her the bag, grinning fondly. Abby frowned and then raised a suspicious eyebrow at him.

 

“Come again?” she said, crossing her arms, raising her chin. Her stuff on the floor forgotten for the moment.

 

“Take it.” he said, putting the light bag in her arms, his wild grin never fading, he sat down on the bed.

 

“What's happening here?” she asked, turning on her heels, her eyes bouncing from the bag to him fervently.

 

“Open and take a look.” he whispered, feeling exasperation growing in the pit of his stomach.

 

Abby didn't answer and hummed suspiciously at him, she put the bag on the bed and then shoved one hand inside, her eyes were fixed with undeniable doubt over him, until her fingers reached the fabric of the dress and she pulled it out.

 

She widened her eyes and her lips parted, no sound came out, and for a moment Marcus feared she hated it. She blinked, and looked between him and the dress several times before her arms fell heavily at her sides.

 

“You bought me a dress?” she whispered, her chocolate eyes were still blinking in honest surprise.

 

“Yes I did.” he said, smiling proudly to himself, leaning his weight on his hands. What happened next, wasn't exactly the way he had pictured it in his head.

 

“How dare you, you idiot?” she said, slapping him on the chest, pursing her lips. Her cheeks had turned the same color of the sunset burning out of their window, and Marcus huffed in surprise when her palm hit his chest _and_ his stomach.

 

“Is this your way to show gratitude?” he said, curling up in a defensive ball over the mattress.

 

“You're a real idiot.” Abby said, shaking her head, one hand over her hip, the other gripping at the dress with a delicate fierce. With that she stormed inside of the bathroom and slammed the door at her back.

 

Marcus huffed and looked up at the ceiling, his heart was slowing the pace in his chest and he found himself chuckling when Abby kept cursing him from the other side of the door.

 

“Idiot. My best friend is a complete asshole.” she was saying, while he could picture her shaking her head, her damp hair dancing over her bare shoulders, her towel falling down over the wet floor of the bathroom, the new dress hanging from her hands while she studied it.

 

“Idiot!” she said again, while Marcus stood up and shook his head, a happy grin on his lips, he stepped outside on the balcony and took a long breath into the evening warm air.

 

After a couple of minutes, that Abby had spent in silence, he heard the sound of the bathroom door while she opened it, stepping outside.

 

“So? Do you like it?” he started asking, before he had fully turned. “Does it fi-” his second question died in his throat though, as soon as his eyes landed over her. She was standing in front of the window, her bare feet were nervously fighting with each other over the parquet floor of the room. The dress he had picked didn't just fit her perfectly, it seemed to be _flowing_ around her tiny frame.

 

The white fabric was almost dazzling in contrast with her tanned skin, the lace adorning her waist seemed extremely soft, the light fabric hugged her curves with delicate strokes, and the gown fell freely over her bare legs. Her honey hair was still damp from the shower, and it was drying in curls over her bare shoulders.

 

“So? What do you think?” she asked him suddenly, blinking in his direction, her lower lip trapped between her teeth. She was nervous, and she was blushing, and she was wearing a white dress that he had just bought for her, and the sunset was glowing over her and she looked breathtaking and he suddenly needed to tell her all of that.

 

But instead, his lips parted and no sound came out. He started shaking his head, his eyes roaming over her body in a shameless rush, trying to capture every detail he could land his eyes on. Abby frowned softly, then bowed her head. Her hands joined over her womb, she started to play with her fingers.

 

“You don't like it?” she asked, in a timid feeble voice. She had never looked so vulnerable before. Marcus finally managed to close his mouth and fixed his eyes over her face. He took a step inside the room, and then another, until he was mere inches from her. His shadow casted over her, and she raised her chin, looking at him with an elusive emotion shimmering in her eyes.

 

“You are _breathtaking_ Abby.” he said, his voice low, a guttural murmur that vibrated into his own chest. “The dress is beautiful, but you...” he exhaled, knowing he was stepping into dangerous ground, he was once again losing himself into the feeling Abby was able to make grow into his system. He was losing focus on what was proper and what wasn't, and he also realized that all of a sudden, _he didn't care anymore_.

 

Abby parted her lips, as to answer him, he could see the words starting to grow on the tip of her tongue, she was blinking her eyes slowly, and he found himself staring at her lips insistently, while she inhaled new oxygen to form her next sentence.

 

“You...” she breathed out, her voice was thick and rough, it sounded as if she hadn't been talking for hours, instead of just few seconds. She closed her lips again, and she swallowed hard, he could see it because his eyes were fixed over the lower part of her face, and he could be damned if he tore his eyes off now.

 

“...should... stop saying that.” she eventually said, her words left her lungs in long heavy sighs. Marcus hummed quietly, and saw the way she was holding her breath now, he took another little step closer, and Abby made a quivering deep sound in the back of her throat.

 

“Marcus...” his name did the trick.

 

His name, leaving her lips in a soft feeble whisper, dancing in the silence around them, reaching his ears as a melody he longed to hear since ages, his name broke all the fences he had built up around himself, it wiped out all the doubts and the questions, it made that little space between them look like an endless ravine keeping them apart.

 

His name pushed him to lean closer, and close the gap between them _once and for all_. She closed her eyes, he saw the movement of her eyelashes in the corner of his eyes, he did the same. When she parted her lips and suck in a breath, he was invaded by her perfume.

 

She smelled fresh as the soap she had used to wash her hair, she smelled as the almond oil she had peppered all over her damp skin after the shower, she smelled as the thousands of _what ifs_ he had asked himself since she had came back from her summer trip two years ago.

 

He was so close, that he could already taste her on the tip of his tongue, and it was turning liquid already. His hands had at some point flew over her hips, and he was keeping her secured on her feet by the waist. She felt light and tiny and incredibly warm and solid, and he could already imagine how she would feel once that beautiful and _damned_ white dress was at her feet, and she would be _naked_ under his touch.

 

Then was when a knock on the door startled them both.

 

“Room service.” a muffled voice, in a strong french accent, said from the hallway outside of their door. Marcus clenched his jaw.

 

This couldn't be happening, not now, there was no way he would let go of her now, not when he had her so close that he could feel her eyelashes brushing on his cheek when she opened her eyes again.

 

Another knock reverberated in the silence around them. Marcus swallowed hard, trying to calm his racing heart. Suddenly he was terribly aware of everything around him. The sound of their breaths were heavy and loud, the solidity of her body under his hands made him too aware of the _hardness_ of his own, and how it was _already_ reacting at her proximity.

 

Her perfume was almost overwhelming him, sucking the air out of his lungs, making his heart drop into his stomach, his head dangerously dizzy. He could sense his palms starting to sweat over the light fabric of her dress, and how her own heartbeat was pulsing under his touch, where he could feel her starting to withdrew.

 

_No, no, no._

 

She pushed softly on his chest, her fingers grazing at the fabric of his shirt, while her bare feet started walking her backwards, away from him.

 

_No, please, don't._

 

He could see the way her eyes had turned from dreamy and foggy to sad all of a sudden, she was tilting her head, an apology forming on the tip of her tongue.

 

_No, don't go, don't open the door Abby, please._

 

He wanted to stop her, to keep her anchored in front of him, but when he started losing the grip over her waist, he didn't do anything to stop the inevitable. When she turned on her heels and sneaked away from him, her shoulder pumping into his in the process, he was still silent, gaping at her silhouette while she approached the door.

 

What happened next, his memory would never recall. All the sounds were muffled, and his vision had blurred. He didn't seem able to register anything of what was going on around him, if the world had exploded in that same instant, he wouldn't have noticed.

 

His fingers still prickled with the ghost of her soft flesh under his fingertips, his neck was still warm with the aftermath of her hot soft sighs, his heart was still hammering in his chest, affected by her proximity, even if now she was far away and he wasn't holding her anymore. He could still feel her.

 

When she turned on her heels, and closed the door at her back, she pressed her body against it, her hands hidden behind her. Marcus blinked and straighten his back, he swallowed and his brain started functioning again.

 

“Wrong room.” Abby murmured, looking at him from her eyelashes, her cheeks had reddened, the skin over her chest as well, she looked like she had just walked miles under a burning sun.

 

_Him, it had been him who had caused that._

 

She was looking at him shyly, biting at her lower lip nervously, her bare feet were playing with each other over the floor, and her shoulders were tensing, every muscle in her body was rigid. She was suddenly uncomfortable, but at the same time she looked like she wanted to stride those few meters between them and jump in his arms, finishing what they had almost started.

 

She looked _turned on_ and _afraid_ at the same time. It was a sight he had never thought he would see, not even in his wildest dreams, and yet here he was, witnessing the effect he had on her.

 

What had _almost_ happened between them hadn't turned the world upside down just for him, it had done the same to her, she had been affected by it as well. They both felt it, they both wanted it, they both had _almost_ done it.

 

Marcus didn't know what to say, he didn't even know if his brain was able to form a coherent thought right now, so he kept quiet and remained still, watching his best friend, the same best friend he had just almost kissed, with wide shocked eyes.

 

Abby didn't say anything as well, until she realized he wasn't going to fill the awkward silence and decided she had to do something about it herself.

 

“We should go and have dinner, before it's gonna be too late.” she said, withdrawing from the door, founding her pair of shoes under the closet, sneaking her bare feet in and looking at him again. “Come on Marcus.” she whispered.

 

This time his name left her lips in a heavier and sadder whisper, and instead of lighting a fire inside of him, it froze him on his spot, preventing him to move a single muscle, or even simply blink. Abby sighed out heavily, closed her eyes and clenched her jaw. Her hands were tightening in fists at her side, she seemed to be holding back, to be silently reminding herself to calm down.

 

“I'm gonna save us a table.” she muttered, before taking her bag from the hanger at the door's side and storming outside, closing the door at her back.

 

As soon as the room was empty again, except for him, Marcus' brain started processing all that had just happened and his body suddenly collapsed. His legs gave up under his weight, and he found himself kneeling on the floor. A shrilling pain had spread from his knees to his brain at some point, but he was too focused on mentally screaming to be able to feel it.

 

He cupped his face in his hands, and in the deafening silence of the empty hotel room, he screamed against his warm skin. He screamed for what he had just _almost_ done. He screamed for how desirable and inviting Abby's lips looked since he had memory of it. He screamed for the white dress he had decided to buy for her, the white dress that fitted her so perfectly that had sent his body on fire without her doing anything more than simply stand in front of him.

 

He screamed for the boy that had interrupted the moment that could have answered his questions, that could have put to sleep his dormant desires, that could have stopped this endless bittersweet torture that was being Abby Walters' best friend.

 

He screamed until his voice turned rough and his throat started prickling, then he stood up, wiped away a few tears that had rolled down his cheeks, took his jacket and the room key, and headed toward the terrace of the hotel.

 

 

….

 

_Stupid._

 

Tears started gathering at the corner of her eyes, her heels clicking on the marble floor of the hotel, her new dress stroking her bare skin.

 

_Stupid._

 

Abby sniffed and wiped away a couple of tears that she hadn't been able to hold back.

 

_Stupid._

 

She pressed her index finger on the button of the elevator, and waited for it to descend from the terrace, allowing a private, closed and silence place where she could sneak in.

 

_Stupid._

 

The elevator's door opened with a loud _bing_ and Abby entered, her eyes daring to look at her back, afraid he could already be reaching her. Luckily for her, he was still inside of their room.

 

_Stupid._

 

She pressed the button of the higher floor and waited, until the doors closed in front of her, and then she burst into tears.

 

_Stupid._

 

Tear after tear, she silently cried, her heart was hammering in her chest as a broken drum, her whole body was tensing with the effort of keeping her screams muffled inside of her lungs. The soft skin of her cheeks stretched when she opened her mouth wide open, but no sound escaped her throat.

 

_Stupid._

 

Her eyes were burning, her light make up was probably rolling down her cheeks now, but she couldn't care less. Gripping at the golden railing behind her back, she turned her body, facing the other side of the elevator, she slammed her head against it.

 

_Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._

 

She stopped as soon as her head started pulsing in pain, and bit at her lower lip to prevent herself from crying out loud. She knew she was almost at the terrace, the elevator had lowered its run, and she had to recompose herself to a decent human being before stepping outside. Many people were there, sharing a pleasant dinner, talking happily, enjoying their holidays in the most romantic city in the world...

 

_Stupid._

 

She checked herself in the distorted reflection the golden metal of the elevator allowed her, she fixed her hair, straightened her back, raised her chin and cleared her throat. When she was sure she looked like a proper American tourist again, she turned on her heels, right on time for the doors to open on the terrace.

 

She stepped outside and closed her eyes when the warm breeze enveloped her, the white soft dress danced around her slim bare legs, a couple of curious eyes landed over her, she ignored them and walked toward the table assigned for their room.

 

She knew there wasn't a reason for her to worry, they would always have their spot saved, they had paid for it. But she had needed an excuse to walk away from him, and that had seemed the most reasonable thing she could think of.

 

She sat down and smiled to the waiter when he brought her an empty glass and showed her a bottle of expensive wine. She nodded her approval, he started pouring the fresh liquid in the shimmering crystal flute. She took it without saying a word, and took a long sip.

 

When the warm liquid descended her throat, invading her system, prickling to life every nerve in her body, she sighed out heavily and opened her eyes. Then was when she spotted him coming over, his jacket draped over one shoulder, his jaw clenched, his eyes cold, his posture rigid.

 

_Stupid._

 

….

 

 _She had been crying_.

 

He could tell. It was clear as the sun, even in the darkness swallowing up the city, even in the dim lights lightening the terrace and its guests. It was obvious. She had been crying.

 

He sat down heavily, without saying a word. A waiter brought him a glass and showed him the label of an expensive wine he didn't even bother to check. He nodded his approval and the young french boy poured him the fresh sparkling liquid.

 

His dark eyes were focused over the girl sitting in front of him. Abby was looking at him with her jaw clenched, her eyes were steady and cold, her lips closed tight. Her cheeks were crimson colored, and she was breathing heavily. He could see how she was torturing the napkin on her lap, focusing her attention on something else while faking a perfectly stoic facade in front of him.

 

But she had been crying.

 

The trace of her tears were still visible on her cheekbones, and even on the tip of her chin. Her light make-up had followed the trace of her sadness all over her soft skin, and he had to fight hard against the sudden urge to stroke her cheek and soothe her worried look-

 

_No._

 

He couldn't let himself do that again, he couldn't let his defense down that easily, he had to brace himself for what was going to happen now. It was clear to the both of them, _finally_ he couldn't stop himself from thinking, that he had feelings for her. He found her attractive, that was a matter of fact, and she now knew that, but he also supposed she could see through it and see that it wasn't just that.

 

It wasn't just a matter of physical attraction here, it wasn't just about scratching a hitch, it wasn't just about sex. Even because, at least on his part, he had yet to explore that unknown and intriguing part of life.

 

Marcus Kane had never slept with a woman, that was undeniably true. He was in his twenty, he was good looking and he knew that, many girls along the years had tempted his young and needy body, but not even once had he tried to step onto the other side of the moon.

 

Not because he didn't want to, _oh he did want to,_ but mostly because his mind had been too occupied with daydreaming of one particular girl, to let this body enjoy the presence of the others whom were circling around him, open and ready to throw themselves in his arms if he only said the word.

 

So Marcus Kane had never touched a woman, not completely, not entirely. He had never pushed himself further from a soft peck on the lips, or a hand on the hips, mostly of the time he had also been too drunk to even remember the face of the girl.

 

His first kiss, the technically _real_ first kiss, had been slippery, damp, too much tongue, too many teeth. It had been memorable, but for the wrong reasons. He had never felt the need to try that again for a long time.

 

Then Abby had turned sixteen, and she had left for almost two months, and things had started happening quiet rapidly.

 

Abby cleared her throat, breaking the silence and his swirl of thoughts, she took the glass to her lips and swallowed down the wine rapidly. It was empty in a matter of seconds, she filled it again and started sipping at it slowly, closing her eyes for a long moment, pressing her damp lips against the cool glass.

 

He wanted to say something, he wanted to say _many_ things, but instead he decided to keep quiet, and it seemed as if for her, it was perfectly fine. They lingered into that awkward and tensed silence all through the dinner.

 

They never spoke, not even once, apart from when they had to order their food. When they exchanged their plates, so they could eat half of both, they did it in perfect silence, their eyes didn't meet, not even once.

 

When their stomachs were filled with food, and their veins were fully flowing with the warmth of two bottles of expensive wine, Abby had probably been drinking _a little_ bit more than him, they stood up and headed toward the elevator.

 

Once again, neither of them said a single word.

 

When the door closed, they remained perfectly still, looking straight ahead of them. Abby in her white dress, Marcus in his black pants and shirts. They looked like two perfect sides of the same coin, unable to face each other, but also impossible to separate without cutting them in half.

 

When Marcus opened the door, the chandelier at their backs casted a series of golden strings of light over the dark room. Abby stepped in, without waiting for him, she threw her bag on the bed, and approached the window. It was still open, and from outside came the muffled sounds of Paris at night.

 

Marcus closed the door, and for a moment thought to turn on the lights, but the darkness that had swallowed them up was weirdly comforting, so he decided that if Abby wanted some light, she could turn it on herself.

 

He stepped in, left his jacket on the hanger, put the keys of the room on the nightstand, and then turned to look at Abby. She was wrapping her arms around her tiny frame, the white dress flowing elegantly around her silhouette, the Eiffel Tower sparkling in front of her, a shimmering reminder of where they were, hovering upon the city as a silent sparkling guardian.

 

The city lights were trembling in the horizon, expanding in the dark veil the night had draped all over the dormant houses and the fully awake streets. He approached her, out of habit, his hands in his pockets. Abby didn't move, but he could see the tension in her posture, how she stood still, not a single muscle in her body was relaxed, she was listening to the sound of his footsteps, waiting for him to do something.

 

He wanted to apologize, that much was certain, he wanted to tell her that whatever had _almost_ happened, meant nothing, that they were the same old Abby and Marcus, that nothing had to be different now, nothing had to turn awkward.

 

 _Lies_ he wasn't ready to throw her way. It wouldn't be fair to put on a mask now, pretending nothing had _almost_ happened.

 

It was then, in the silence that hovered between them, trembling as autumn leaves in the little space between their bodies, that he realized that whatever was going on, was all because of something that had _just_ _almost_ happened.

 

But in the end, nothing had actually been done, no line had been crossed, not completely at least.

 

If they had to act this awkwardly, if they had to stop talking till the end of their trip, or even for ever... Then it should be for something that had _actually_ happened.

 

It was with this thought circling his head, that he gave to his body the last order his mind could process before stepping into the oblivion of pure instincts.

 

He leaned closer, and his hand stroked her hair away from her right shoulder. Abby didn't move, nor she withdrew, her body was already so rigid that she would break if her muscles tensed more. His fingers danced over her bare neck and back, he caressed her creamy skin, she was bathed in moonlight and her usual amber glow was now silvery, whispers of blue dancing on her neck, over the curve down of her spine.

 

He sensed the way she instinctively leaned her head to the side, exposing her neck to him, her hair falling as a cascade of golden honey over her other side. One of her hand was on her chest, her palm wide open over her beating heart, the other one was flinching softly at her side, as if she felt the need to hold onto something to balance herself.

 

Then was when his hands traveled to her waist, and he secured his fingers around her hips, as to say _It's ok, I've got you._ Then she made an unmistakable sound, that grew out of her lungs and reverberated in her body, trembling on the tip of her lips when she parted them.

 

He leaned closer, and sniffed in her perfume. It was inebriating, intoxicating, overwhelming him. His head was spinning, his heart was racing, his legs felt weak and his bones seemed to turn liquid under his skin.

 

Then Abby exhaled deeply, her body leaned closer to his, he felt how she bumped her lower back against his crotch, and then was when she sucked in a breath and his name left her lips.

 

“Marcus...”

 

A low, rough, smoky, guttural whisper, that escaped her lungs and flew light as a feather into the silent night around them. It took him just that, again, to step over that line, and finally, _finally_ crash his lips against her skin.

 

When he tasted her for the first time, the image that pictured in his head, was one of the sweetest cake he had ever tasted, when he had been eleven. A meringues cake his mother had let him have after lunch, in a mountain hut in the middle of Vermont, he couldn't quiet remember where exactly that had been, but the cake, he had never forget it.

 

His brain was flashing him back that memory, not because of the sweet taste in itself, but because of the feeling that had grown into his heart when he had shoved the first piece inside of his mouth. His tongue had turned liquid, his eyes had rolled in the back of his head, and a moan of pure pleasure had escaped his lips.

 

He remembered the way his heart had lipped in his chest, as soon as the sugar had started running into his system, how fragrant and soft it had felt while rolling between his teeth, how the cream had filled his cheeks, leaving behind a sweet trace that would eventually satisfy his hunger for sweets for months.

 

In that exact moment, Abby's skin tasted as his first and last meringues cake, she tasted as happiness and joy, as the awe of a kid in front of the sweetest of treats. Then, when that first thought had washed over him, turning his tongue water, leaving goosebumps all over his arms, a dozens more flavors invaded his mouth.

 

She tasted as the body soap she had used few hours before, violet candies was the predominant flavor. The almond oil she had spread over her damp skin filled his taste buds, making him groan, he instinctively bit her and then was when Abby made the second most alluring sound he had ever heard after his gasped name, she _moaned._

 

His blood rushed from his brain to his groin, making him pulse under the fabric of his tight jeans. Now, every coherent thought could be damned, it was his body that lead the way, it wasn't about rational thinking, it wasn't about thinking at all.

 

It was all a matter of _doing._

 

His fingers dived in the soft flesh of her sides, she was eyes closed and lips parted, breathing heavily in the silence around them, her head tilted to the side, his mouth savoring her neck as if it was the last meal to a man condemned to death.

 

He couldn't know how Abby was feeling inside, where emotions were invisible, and could only be felt. But if he could peek under her skin now, he would find a fire burning and consuming everything on its path. Her stomach was opening to the joy she could already feel growing between her legs, because the touch of his fingers over her skin was foreign and somehow even _forbidden,_ and that was enough for her to almost lose her senses.

 

Her legs were weak, but Marcus' hands on her hips were strong and steady, and she knew he would never let her fall. That knowledge, somehow, made everything _worse_ in a _good_ way, and she was panting as if he had been hovering upon her since hours.

 

_God, how she desperately wanted him to do that now._

 

The thing was, that in that moment, Abby and Marcus had found themselves caught in the middle of an emotional storm. One was in desperate love, since basically ever, his body was simply reacting to a need that had started growing before he had been able to realize it.

 

The other was having the hardest time of her life, given her only eighteen years it couldn't be that bad, but she was feeling desired and loved from a man that wasn't supposed to touch her like that, or to make her skin burn as if she was on fire whenever he looked at her.

 

They were enjoying the moment they had found themselves in, without knowing that it had two different meanings. But they didn't seem to care about asking questions, nor permission, it all happened as it was common between young and carefree human beings.

 

_They let their bodies do the talking._

 

When words failed the both of them, and when their brains stopped working for good, they let their hands and lips communicate, into that intricate dance they had never once tried before, but that seemed to be memorized in the back of their heads, as if they had done this since forever.

 

Abby wanted to turn in his arms, not to face him, because she wasn't sure she could handle the idea of looking him in the eyes, but to feel him, completely, lips against lips, she wanted to finish what he had almost started few hours ago, exactly in this same spot.

 

Marcus wanted to scoop her up, lay her on that damned queen sized bed, and do what he had dreamed to do so many nights along the years.

 

But for the moment, the both of them, seemed to be frozen in time. Marcus' lips were gently nibbling at the soft skin of her neck, Abby's hand at some point had left her chest and was diving into his thick black hair, while the other one was squeezing his fingers that were pressed against her side.

 

They stood there, eyes closed, heavy breaths and burning skin, for a long long while. It felt as if they had all the time in the world, and maybe for one night, they could linger into that thought, they could allow themselves to make that a real possibility.

 

They could answer the dozens of questions their brains had formed and gathered along the years. They could step into the unknown they had been avoiding for too long, while it had kept inviting them in. They could explore foreign territories that had always seemed so far away from what they had a right to see.

 

They could let themselves fall for each other, as it was always meant to be.

 

Those were some of the thoughts that filled their tipsy minds, and maybe they were going to blame it on the wine in the morning, but for now it mattered just what they could feel, and how that made everything seem so surreal and at the same time it made all the pieces connect as if a giant puzzle had been solved.

 

She gasped one last time, before Marcus gave up to the pressure in his pants, to the heavy beating of his heart, to the throbbing ache in his veins, and spun her in his arms, braking the contact of his lips against her skin, making her gasp once again, this time in surprise.

 

When he crashed her against the wall, she didn't complain, even if her head reverberated with the blow, she didn't say a word, because Marcus' eyes had never looked darker, not even in the pitch blackness of the nights they had passed talking before falling to sleep. Nothing could ever have prepared her for the pure and animalistic _desire_ she was seeing now, burning as fire into his dark irises.

 

He was keeping her pressed between his solid body and the concrete wall, and Abby was suddenly out of breath, her eyes were frantically roaming over his features, trying to memorize him right now, as if she knew in the back of her head, for some weird reasons, that this would be the last time she was going to see him like this.

 

So _vulnerable,_ so _open,_ so _desperate_ to have her.

 

When he crashed his lips against hers, and _finally_ kissed her, giving up to the desire that had accompanied him all this time, time did indeed stop. It could have lasted one second or even two decades, it didn't matter to them, as long as it felt as this moment, every little bit of it would be worth it.

 

His lips felt warm, damp, almost liquid against hers. He was extremely soft and terribly sweet, he tasted as wine and the bread he had with his dinner. She could taste even distant notes of the sweet raspberry and dark chocolate cake he had for dessert. She felt as if from this moment on, nothing would ever taste better than his lips.

 

Abby on her side, tasted as wine as well, but millions of flavors seemed to be entangling each other on the tip of her tongue and in the soft line of her lips. Marcus had always tried to imagine how would it be to kiss Abby Walters, but nothing in the entire world could have ever prepared him for the actual reality.

 

She tasted as the sweetest piece of cake he had ever had, and as the darkest of the nights, one of those you pass curled up in a ball, under your blankets, dreaming endlessly all through the night. She tasted as fresh spring flowers, the kinds you smell on the first days of April, the ones that makes your body feel alive after a long dormant winter.

 

She tasted as opportunities, the many he had never felt belonged to him. She tasted as promises he had never been able to make, but that he knew he could keep now, until his dying day. She tasted as a lifetime of mornings spent filling two mugs with coffee, instead of just one. She tasted as Paris' maps, and smiles froze into Polaroids that would entirely cover his bedroom's walls.

 

She tasted as the many dreams he had of this moment, but a hell of a lot better.

 

She tasted as heaven, the heaven his mother believed actually existed, and for a moment, he thought she was right. Heaven did exist, and it was this moment, right here, right now, holding Abby Walters in his arms, kissing her senseless while keeping her tiny body pinned to the wall, preventing her from escaping him, yet knowing that she would never let go of him.

 

Heaven was a kiss in a Paris' hotel room. Heaven was a hand on her hips, and one in her hair. Heaven was her tongue, pushing his lips open, exploring his mouth with a delicate care. Heaven was the solid warmth of her body under his touch, tensing and relaxing with every gasp she made. Heaven was the sound of her voice, while she moaned and whispered his name, when his hands found its way down her lower back, cupping her ass, squeezing it hard enough to leave marks.

 

Heaven was thinking he could actually _have_ his best friend here and now, if he wanted to, because she would allow him to.

 

Heaven was also withdrawing from her, breaking the desperately beautiful kiss they were sharing, to lean his forehead against hers and breath in and out, to recollect his thoughts, and look her in the eyes, before asking the question he had never thought she would allow him to ask.

 

“Do you want me to keep going?” he asked, roughly, looking her intensely in the eyes, to catch every glimpse of her emotions, because if he could see even a single ounce of regret in her, he would stop right here and right now.

 

It would kill him _yes,_ but he would do that.

 

Abby didn't answer at first, her hands were around his neck, one of her legs was secured behind his back, around his waist, her hair was messy and her skin was burning. Then she nodded, at first slowly, then more rapidly with each seconds that passed.

 

“Yes Marcus. Keep going.” she leaned forward and kissed him. “Don't you dare stop.” she said, her last words dying in his moan, when she bit at his lower lip, sucking at it avidly. Then Marcus finally scoop her up, his hands secured under her butt, his lips devouring hers in an endless fight for dominance.

 

When he landed her on the mattress, she fell heavily, despite her slim figure, and he found himself suddenly really interested in watching her. The way her hair was sprawled all around her head, the way her chest was rising and falling heavily, following the rhythm of her beating heart. Her peachy lips were swollen and bruised from the rough kissing, her white dress was a mess of wrinkles, but she looked like the most desirable and breathtaking woman he had ever seen.

 

But hadn't she always looked like this to him? _Probably._ But having her in this conditions _because of him_ was a very different thing. It made it seem all more real, all more beautiful, all more alluring.

 

He knelt down then, his knees pressed on the mattress, his weight made her fall deeper into the soft bed. She smiled, a teasing smirk that made her eyes glow with a dangerous fire, then she bit at her lower lip.

 

“What are you waiting for?” she breathed out, her rough and smoky voice was an invitation he couldn't let go to waste. When he bent down and captured her lips for another kiss, Abby didn't say no, she didn't shy away, instead she kissed him back, with equal passion.

 

For a long moment, they simply kept kissing each other. Passionate, long, damp, messy, hungry kisses, that would leave their lips swollen and reddened, and their lungs exhausted for the amount of oxygen they had been lacking.

 

Their bodies seemed unable to disentangle from one another, even if at the same time, they were still fully dressed.

 

_Why were they still wearing clothes?_

 

Marcus groaned, feeling a sudden urge to tear apart that white dress he had bought for her. He wanted to feel her under the palm of his hands, naked, open, inviting, warm, delicate, soft and solid, as it was meant to be.

 

He wondered what in the world had gotten him so lucky to be the first, and he truly hoped _last_ man to touch her like this. To be allowed to kiss her senseless, to have a chance to pin her under his body, while planning on how to undress her.

 

Whatever that was, he considered himself even _blessed_ for the chance he was having, of giving pleasure to Abby Walters in a way that would always be his. This moment, this exact instant, in which she was stroking his cheeks, while giggling cheerfully against his swollen lips, this moment would always be theirs.

 

No matter what happened, no matter what could change with time, they would always remember this moment. Every second mattered, because it would be engraved in their heads forever, and it would be the memory of the first time they had ever kissed, and connected this intimately.

 

He hoped, in the deep of his heart, that it wouldn't also be the last one. Because if he knew one thing for sure, was that Abby was the kind of girl you can't kiss just once and then forget about. She was the kind of girl tat you kiss once and immediately start planning your wedding, and you imagine how it would be to wake up every morning at her side.

 

Abby was the kind of girl who makes you plan a future, who makes you daydream of sharing breakfast, of filling two mugs with coffee instead of one, for the rest of your life. She was the kind of girl that you want to see getting older at your side. The kind of girl you want to call _mine_ before it's too late.

 

Abby was the kind of girl you want to spend the rest of your life with.

 

He suddenly couldn't stop his heart from hammering in his chest, and it wasn't all just because of her legs wrapped around him, or the incessant pressure she was putting on his groin, raising her hips from the bed to meet him halfway.

 

It was because he was in _desperate love_ with her, and he suddenly needed to tell her.

 

“Abby...” he breathed her name in the mess of panting voices that were filling his ears. Abby hummed, as to make it clear she was listening, but didn't want to stop kissing his neck.

 

“Abby wait...” he said, his voice heavy with desire, but he found the strength to halt her in her movements, pinning her hands above her head. She blinked in confusion, and a playful smile blossomed over her lips.

 

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice cheerful, she was panting heavily, her cheeks were colored in a soft tone of red, she was beautiful.

 

He kept staring at her in silence, all of his thoughts circling in his mind, all of his desires pulsing in his veins. He wanted to tell her so many things...

 

He wanted to explain to her what meaning _this_ had for him. He wanted to tell her for how long had he been daydreaming of the day he was finally going to connect with her the way they were doing now. He wanted to whisper against her bare skin how beautiful she was, and how desperately he _lov-_

 

“Marcus...” his name whispered from her lips dragged him out of his thoughts. She was tilting her head slightly to the side now, her expression had turned worried. His hands had probably softened their grip on her wrists at some point, because she was stroking one of his cheeks now. “We don't have to talk.” she said, her voice low and rough, her chest still rising heavily.

 

Marcus parted his lips, but she pressed her index finger against his mouth, preventing him to speak. “We don't have to talk.” she said again, her eyes were lazily dancing over his features now, a soft and sweet smile adorning her lips. “You don't have to tell me anything.” she kept saying, her fingers stroking his cheek once again. “You could just kiss me again...” she added then, her eyes blinked in his, and she kept them there, soft and intense at the same time.

 

Marcus wanted to do that, to kiss her senseless till the end of his days, but he also wanted to talk, to express his feelings, to put his thoughts into words. It was then that something passed into Abby's eyes, an unfathomable emotion that sparkled for a fraction of a second, and disappeared as soon as she had closed her eyelids shut, leaning higher toward him, closing the gap between their bodies and kissing him.

 

“Just kiss me.” she whispered against his lips, over and over again. His mind stopped functioning soon after that, his body took control over again, his desires guiding his movements and actions from that moment on.

 

Their lips kept dancing with each other, their tongues gliding in and out in perfect harmony. She was warm and vibrant under the palm of his hands, her flesh felt soft and solid at the touch of his fingertips. Marcus was so lost, that when she pushed on his shoulders, and forced him to switch position, he widened his eyes in shock.

 

She was hovering upon him now, straddling his waist with her strong and slim legs, her hair cascading over her shoulders in silky curls, her eyes dark, veiled with the intensity of the desire that was visibly pulsing under her skin.

 

“You're beautiful...” he chocked out, unable to restrain himself. His voice sounded low and guttural, coming straight from his pulsing core. He saw the way Abby's lips turned into a shy smile, how the blush on her cheeks intensified. She lowered herself over him, pressing her chest against his, pinning his hands over his head.

 

“You have to stop saying that...” she said, her voice rough and smoky, causing his blood to boil in his veins. He felt so hot now, that for a moment he feared he could catch fire, but then Abby was kissing him slowly, purposefully taking her time to savor him, and he could even explode for all that he cared. Her tongue gentle but expert, teasing and delicate, while exploring his mouth, giving his body all sort of feelings, feelings he had never experienced this strongly.

 

His skin had never prickled with that much intensity, his heart was hammering in his temples, his blood felt almost loud while it kept rushing to every extremity of his body. His nerves were tensed and his muscles were flexing incessantly under his skin. His mind was loud, thoughts over thoughts, he didn't seem able to focus on something for more than few seconds, before something new would pop out, forcing his brain to start the process all over again.

 

When he started to feel warm in the southern part of his body, and when his pants started to feel _way too tight_ all of a sudden, he realized Abby had started rocking her slim body over his. Every movement was calculated, delicate pressure that created that kind of friction you can't easily ignore.

 

The groans that started escaping his lips, when she started putting more pressure, were louder than any other sound he had made that night. The soft chuckle that bubbled out of Abby's lungs, told him she enjoyed it.

 

“You have to stop Abby...” he panted, but she didn't stop, on the contrary, her grip on his wrists tightened, and her legs squeezed him harder, her butt circling insistently over his crotch. “Abby...” he warned her again, but she chuckled once again. She was pretty aware of the effect she was having on him, and she didn't seem in any rush of stopping, on the contrary, she seemed to be stubbornly focused on finish him right there right now.

 

But Marcus couldn't allow that to happen, he didn't want to come into his pants like that, it wasn't the way he had pictured it in his head for years. No. He had to take back control, he wanted to focus on her first, to give _her_ pleasure, he wanted to see her body react to his, and he wanted to discover what could give Abby Walters that much pleasure that she would have to beg him to stop.

 

That was why he collected all of his strengths and switched position again, causing her to let out a surprised gasp, forcing her still under his body. “It's my turn now.” he whispered into her ear.

 

“Damn you Marcus...” she hissed, her chest rising and falling heavily under his, her heartbeat pulsing under her skin. “Damn you...” she said again, a playful smile over her lips. Marcus chuckled throatily, and then was when he started to pepper kisses all over the bare skin that white dress allowed him to see.

 

His tongue drew lines from her neck to the valley of her breasts, where the soft fabric of her dress prevented him to move forward. She moaned when his breath teased the soft skin over her chest, and he smiled against her creamy skin, moving toward her shoulder, nibbling at it softly, making her squirm under his body.

 

Then his hands joined the journey over her body, caressing the silky lace wrapped around her soft waist, teasing her hipbones, running toward her bare legs, squeezing gently the soft flesh of her inner thighs, teasing the delicate spot behind her knees, causing her to giggle softly.

 

Every sound she made awakened something new inside of him. A sense of belonging, of protection. He wanted to keep drawing sound after sound, discovering every inch of her skin, learning how to draw out of her every kind of heavenly sound of pleasure, from the softest one, to the loudest her vocal cords could allow her to make.

 

He wanted to keep spreading reverent kisses all over her body, if he could, he would keep doing it till morning would came, until their bodies would collapse from exhaustion, until she would beg him to _fill_ her completely, until her desire would have built so much that she would turn crazy.

 

But her hands flew to his hair when his nose was pressed against her stomach, and she forced him to travel higher again, and her lips captured his in a bruising kiss before he could protest. She kissed him senseless, leaving his lungs burning for the lack of oxygen, biting and sucking in the right ways to make his body catch fire again.

 

“I want you...” she whispered suddenly, her voice rough but also slightly shy. Marcus groaned, pressing his forehead against hers.

 

“I want you too...” he said, when she parted her lips and smiled, he took advantage of that, shoving his tongue inside of her mouth, forcing her to moan again.

 

“Marcus...” she said, starting to kiss him more fiercely, one hand was squeezing his bicep, the other lost into his thick air. “Marcus, Marcus, Marcus.” his name was echoing back and forth into the silence around them, it was a soft murmur, but felt way louder into his ears, reverberating inside of his head, as the sweetest melody he had ever heard.

 

She kept mumbling his name for a while, switching position again, forcing him under her, her kisses never once stopped, he wasn't able to escape her lips, but even if she had given him a chance, he thought he would have never taken that.

 

Being under Abby, while she kissed him over and over again, preventing him to move or escape, was the sweetest torture of all.

 

It was after almost ten minutes of that endless torture, that something happened.

 

Thinking back at it now, Marcus would know how to explain her sudden change of mood, and her abrupt stop. He would be able to say what was shimmering in her wide eyes when she started looking at him, her hands pressed against his chest. He would know how to name the tremor in her body, when she hopped off of him, jumping heavily down the bed.

 

He would be able to explain her mumbling, the way she ran her hands in her hair, or how her muscles looked tensed under her sweaty creamy skin.

 

Twenty years after that episode, Marcus had the answers for what had happened in that room, he knew why she had stopped, and why in her eyes _horror_ had seem to replace the carefree desire she had been swimming in till few seconds before.

 

But in that exact moment, he had no answers to his questions, he had no clues for why she was acting like this, and he also didn't know how to explain why she suddenly stormed outside of the room still barefoot, her hair a mess of knots, her cheeks reddened, slamming the door loudly behind her back, leaving him alone in the dark.

 

He didn't know back then why since that moment, she kept quiet and never talked to him for the rest of their trip.

 

Because twenty years ago, Marcus Kane didn't realize that while she had been kissing him, lost as he was into the pleasure she was giving him, into the bliss of that moment they were having, he had softly murmured the _three words_ he had been keeping for himself all this years.

 

He hadn't noticed, it had been instinctive, and his mind hadn't register the event. Abby though had heard him clearly. Those three words had sneaked in her ears, and had traveled fast to her brain, and realization had settled in. Abby had heard, and it had scared the hell out of her.

 

Because what Marcus didn't know back then, was what he knew now in the present.

 

He didn't know, that back home, someone else had already said those three words to Abby.

 

Back home there was someone waiting for her to say it back. Back home there was someone with whom Abby had planned this trip with. Back home there was a boy with blue eyes and blonde hair, that was patiently waiting for the love of his life to be back.

 

Back home another man was in love with her, and Marcus Kane didn't know that.

 

 

 

_**Present Day** _

 

 

“You left.” he said, his eyes dark and steady. Abby was currently doing her best to not look him in the eyes, focusing her attention on the thick veil of darkness outside of his window. “You left.” he said again, his voice a quiet murmur, loud enough just for the two of them to hear.

 

She turned her attention back at him then, and fixed her watery eyes over his. She was still tensed, her body language was clear on the matter, the way her legs seemed made of stone, the way the nerves and muscles in her neck were visible under her skin, and the way she kept her jaw clenched, so hard that Marcus felt pain for her.

 

“I did. It's true.” she whispered, swallowing hard before blinking a tear down her cheek. She wiped it away while moving away from the window, approaching the kitchen island, sighing heavily. “I was scared...” she murmured, to the emptiness of the room, not even trying to look him in the eyes this time.

 

“You could have been honest since the first instant.” he said, shoving his hands in the pockets of his pants, “You could have simply said the truth.”

 

“I wanted to-” she started to say, her voice was trembling slightly, but Marcus chuckled bitterly and she fell quiet abruptly.

 

“You lied to me Abby.” he almost hissed, gritting his teeth, his fists tightening inside his small pockets. “You lied.” he said again, lower this time.

 

“I didn't lie.” she said then, attracting again his attention, forcing him to advert his gaze from the floor where he had fixed it, and back on her frame in the dark. “I never lied.” she said, shaking her head as to make her point very clear.

 

“You think so?” he said, his tone cold and steady.

 

“I didn't lie.” she said again, her eyes were now lost on a random spot right under his window, as if she was going back in her thoughts, in search of a moment that she could use to prove her point. When she closed her eyes shut and swallowed though, Marcus knew she hadn't succeeded.

 

“You never told me about Jake back then Abby.” he said, and at the mention of his name, he saw the way her whole body jerked, even if just for a moment, he was so focused on her that he couldn't have missed it even if he wanted to.

 

“I was confused.” she said, this time her voice was rougher and lower, she was getting angry, he could sense that.

 

 _Good. Maybe what we need is to fight, once and for all._ He thought, right before she parted her lips again to speak.

 

“I was eighteen. I didn't know what I wanted, I didn't know what I felt.” she was looking him straight in the eyes now, her chin raised, her back stiffened. The muscles in her body seemed to start relaxing, she was using her current emotion to keep her steady on her feet, she was using it as a shield to help her confront him.

 

“Jake had told me he loved me, I didn't know if I loved him back, and he was getting restless waiting for an answer. That was why we fought, that was why _you_ came to Paris with me instead of him.” a watery smile colored her lips, Marcus did his best to avoid the pain that spread throughout his system at her last words. “He wanted to tell the world, he wanted to be open about it with you too.” she was taking slow and precise steps toward him, and Marcus started feeling a little cornered.

 

“I didn't want to, not yet. Because I wasn't sure if I felt the same. Our friendship was too important for me to risk to break it.” she sniffed, and her eyes started filling with new tears. “I loved the both of you so much.” her voice was starting to crack, and Marcus had to take a deep breath to not let a single emotion pass in front of his eyes. He didn't want to show her how her tears were still able to affect him, even after all these years.

 

“I didn't tell you about it, that's true, I didn't. But I never lied.” she said, her tone more steady now, she cleared her throat. Somehow she had managed to keep it together, not a single tear had escaped her eyes.

 

“You did lie Abby.” he said then, his mind recalling flashes of their dinner, how beautiful she looked in black, the taste of the french food was a faraway ghost that still prickled at his tongue. Then he remembered her eyes, lost in thoughts, and the way she had looked at him when he had told her that she deserved to be loved.

 

“I asked you if you had ever felt love. Remember?” he said, moving from the window, taking a step toward her. They were very close, a couple of steps more and their body would touch. “You said that you had never felt that.” he murmured, then a soft smile appeared without his consent on his lips. “But you were lying.” he concluded.

 

Abby was looking at him with her lips slightly parted, her almond eyes wide open, he could see the tears tremble into the dark brown of her irises once again.

 

“You were in love, but you couldn't admit it even to yourself, you were afraid.” he could feel how a wave of _something_ had started building in his stomach, pushing him forward with his speech. It was anger? Remorse? Regret? Or maybe simply _pain_? “You used _me_ to understand how you felt. You can't deny that. You were young, I can give you that, but now you are not a teenager anymore Abby, you should admit to yourself that what happened after Paris, wasn't because of a choice _I_ made.” he had taken another step toward her while talking, and now just few inches were separating them.

 

“You decided to take a chance that night, it's ok, I get it. We were young, we wanted to discover, to get answers, we were curious.” he was smiling sadly, recognizing all too well the feeling that was now threatening the sensitive cords of his heart, but he swallowed and pushed it down, trying to ignore it as long as he could. “When we got back home, I didn't know how to talk to you, Abby you started drifting away from me.”

 

Abby sniffed again.

 

“You decided to leave me behind. Not an explanation, not a single truth. Until I finally saw you two kissing, and then was when I finally knew.” his words felt heavy on his tongue, every single letter burned a path in his throat to get out, but it was time for him to say all of that he had never once got a chance to let out.

 

“What I wanted was just for you to be honest. You could have told me. You could have said the truth. Instead you decided that you wanted to keep it for yourself, leaving me behind, making me feel like an idiot.” he shook his head and cleared his throat loudly, when more than just few tears started threatening to fall down his eyes.

 

“You didn't think I deserved an explanation. When I found out, you couldn't lie anymore, so you told me that you two loved each other.” he scoffed with himself, facing the window, Abby was silent at his back. “You know... I always thought it was going to happen sooner or later, and thinking back at it now, it was so _evident_ how much he already loved you.”

 

 _Who wouldn't?_ He couldn't stop himself from thinking.

 

“I was so blind. If I had knew, I would have never done what I did that night, I'm not that kind of man, I never was, I never will...”

 

“I know...” Abby whispered at his back, so feebly that Marcus didn't hear her, and so he kept talking.

 

“But I was ignorant. I didn't know what the truth was, because you never told me. So I made a fool of myself, being young and bold, I took advantage of the situation.” He could feel how his words sounded wrong even to himself, how they seemed to carry a bitter taste within. But he couldn't allow himself to say the real reason behind his actions.

 

“We could have simply laughed about it, forget it and never mention it again. We could have talked, we could have tried to find a way to solve it.” he was smiling sadly to himself. “But you decided that you didn't want that. You decided to keep quiet for the rest of our trip, for the entire flight, till we were back home.”

 

“ _Take care.” her voice a soft murmur, when she had hugged him quickly, her bag hanging from her shoulder. When she had disappeared in the crowd of people at the airport, Marcus could distinctly hear, even into the multitude of noises around him, the way his own heart cracked for the first time._

 

“You kept ignoring me for weeks. I wanted to reach out, but I was afraid that I would push you farther away from me. How ironic.” he said bitterly, hie teeth grazing at his lower lip. “Then after I found out about the truth, you finally decided to talk to me again... And for what reason?” he asked, without really asking, Abby didn't say a word, she was still quiet behind his back. “To make me promise that we would never talk about Paris again.”

 

His heart was hammering in his chest now, and he could feel his body warming up, as if a fire was starting into his veins.

 

“After that... I didn't know who you were anymore.” he said, his tone flat, his eyes searching for the stars in the pitch black sky outside. “I didn't know you could be that kind of a person. The one that keeps the truth for herself, and then pretends as if nothing had happened.” he heard Abby moving behind him, but decided to ignore the fact.

 

“I didn't know who my best friends were anymore. I was hurt Abby...” his voice trailed off a bit on his last words. He had never once said that out loud, not to her, not to Jake, and it felt almost liberating to finally be able to do that, at least to one of them.

 

“I was hurt, and that's why-” but his words died in his throat, when he heard the sound of the door at his back be opened and closed right after. He blinked in the darkness, and for a moment he thought to be able to see her, still behind his back, listening in silence. But it took him just a few seconds to realize that she was gone.

 

His heart trembled in his chest, but he gathered the strength to walk those few steps to the door and open it again. The living room was filled with light, in contrast with the dark kitchen, and for a moment his eyes burned in pain. He blinked the annoying feeling away and started circling on himself, looking for her.

 

“She's gone.” suddenly Octavia said from behind him, her voice shy. He turned toward her, she was wrapping her arms around herself, tilting her head, a timid expression of curiosity written all over her young and spotless face. “What happened dad?” she whispered.

 

It was then that Marcus noticed that even Clarke and Raven weren't there anymore, just Octavia and Bellamy were in the room, looking at him with two matching puzzled expressions all over their faces.

 

“What?” he asked, his voice hoarse, as if he had been keeping quiet for too long.

 

“What happened?” she asked again, taking a slow step toward him. Marcus' eyes traveled from her to the blue house at the other side of the fence. The lights upstairs were already on.

 

“Nothing happened.” he murmured, more to himself then to her. Octavia cleared her throat.

 

“Are you sure?” Bellamy asked suddenly, forcing Marcus to look at him, adverting his gaze from the house.

 

“Yes. Why do you ask?” he said, clenching his jaw, his eyes kept glancing at the luminous window from his spot in the living room.

 

“Because when she left... she was crying.” Octavia said.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I REGRET NOTHING!
> 
> Everything still unknown and in the "myst" will be explained in the future DON'T WORRY, for now, let me say, this chapter took me a lifetime, really a lifetime, so you better enjoy it (just kidding... or maybe not?)


	9. Hiraeth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She had came here without knowing what she was doing exactly, she had left her house behind her back and had decided to step inside of her past without telling herself why was she actually doing it. But it was so clear now...
> 
> “You can lie to yourself as long as you are able to... but in the end, we all have to answer for our sins.”
> 
> His words echoed in her brain, making it hard for her to breathe.

“Mum? What happened?” Clarke's voice echoed from Marcus' backyard, following her in her frantic escape. She and Raven had spotted her sneaking out of the kitchen, her eyes watery, her hand pressed against her lips, and had immediately rushed after her.

 

_Stupid._

 

Her brain was a swirl of thoughts, her heart was aching, her whole body was reacting at the storming emotions colliding one with the other inside of her head.

 

_Stupid._

 

She closed the door at her back vehemently, as if like that she could force the world to stay behind, as if she could somehow allow herself the bliss of feeling completely alone. She needed to feel what she was feeling, every single emotion demanded her to be felt, to leave a mark on her heart.

 

Now it wasn't the time to ignore how she felt any longer, her guilt, her remorse, her doubts, her fears, her confusion, all demanded her to be acknowledged and felt, because she owned it to herself and to the man she had left behind, once again.

 

_Coward._

 

She had came here without knowing what she was doing exactly, she had left her house behind her back and had decided to step inside of her past without telling herself _why_ was she actually doing it. But it was so clear now...

 

“ _You can lie to yourself as long as you are able to... but in the end, we all have to answer for our sins_.”

 

His words echoed in her brain, making it hard for her to breathe.

 

_Coward._

 

She was sitting on the foot of her bed, her head in her hands, her hair obscuring her view. She sniffed back a couple of tears, feeling her chest expanding and contracting in rhythm with her lungs. Then was when the sound of soft footsteps joined her heavy breaths.

 

“Mum?” Clarke's voice was timid, feeble, uncertain. Abby had to fight hard to not let another sob escape her lips. “Mum?” she said again, kneeling down in front of her. Her tiny soft hands landed over her knees, she fell quiet and just observed her mother, while she tried to recompose herself.

 

_Coward._

 

When Abby looked up at her through her glassy eyes, at first she saw just a blur of blonde hair and the blue of her summer dress. Then she blinked out some of her unshed tears, clearing her view, focusing over the expression that was written all over her daughter's face.

 

“Hey baby...” she chocked out, clearing her throat when it became clear her voice sounded rougher and smokier than usual. Clarke let out a sigh, then pursed her lips. She seemed to be holding back, she had probably many questions, but was keeping them for later.

 

Abby for that was grateful.

 

“Can I do something to help you?” she asked softly, her blue eyes were comforting, but at the same time they were flashing back at her the memory of a young boy, holding her hands in his, asking her to tell him the truth about her feelings for him.

 

“I'm fine...” Abby managed to say, putting a fake and weak smile over her lips. Hoping her daughter would take the hint, once again, and give her the time she needed to put her pieces back together. It wasn't fair to lie to her again, she knew that really well. But she needed to sort things out by herself, this time she needed to solve it once and for all.

 

“Ok...” Clarke whispered, her sad smile telling her she understood, she accepted her lies, because she knew that eventually, she would tell her the truth.

 

_Coward._

 

“If you need anything, we will be downstairs, ok?” Clarke said, standing up again. Abby's eyes followed her movements, until her daughter stroked her cheek affectionately, smiling softly. “I love you.” she whispered, before withdrawing completely and stepping outside.

 

It was then that Abby spotted Raven's shadow in the dark hallway. She had been waiting outside, respectfully avoiding to step in, as if she felt like that wasn't her place, as if she thought she had no right to ask, to be worried, to feel like Abby owed an explanation to her too.

 

_Oh baby..._

 

Abby wanted to reach for her, hug her, telling her that she had every right into this world, because she loved her as a daughter as well. She wanted to explain to that sassy girl how much she meant to her, how unfair all of this was for the both of them, not just for Clarke.

 

But instead, she just looked at her, and the pain shimmering in her big brown eyes didn't go unnoticed.

 

_Coward._

 

 

….

 

 

Paris had been a forbidden memory that Abby had tried to avoid as best as she could. For years she had put it in the back of her head, as if like that she could pretend nothing had ever happened. She was afraid to step inside of that memory and analyze it as she should had.

 

She was forty years old now, and those feelings had turned from the confused fear of knowing the truth of her younger self, to the scary realization of what she had actually done. Abby had been a coward, she had ran away from the answers she wasn't sure she could accept.

 

She had loved Jake, deeply, with her whole heart, she had never doubted it. Jake had loved her back, profoundly, immensely, in a way that had almost felt too good to be true. They had loved each other as it was supposed to be, they had lived their twenty years of marriage in happiness and peace.

 

Abby didn't regret her choice of building a house within the arms of that tall young boy with his blue bright eyes. She had loved every second of it. What hunted her now, was the realization that she could have kept Marcus with her as well all this time.

 

She could have tried to fix things back then, when the time was right, not now, after all that had happened, after time had divided them so deeply that it seemed almost impossible to come back to each other.

 

Abby had been young, Marcus had been young, Jake as well had been just a boy. They didn't know many things about life, how love worked, how they were supposed to react to it, how they were supposed to make things work. Abby had been trying to go back in her mind many times, trying to understand what had she been thinking back then, why had she decided to leave him there, why had she decided to keep her truths to herself.

 

She had been afraid, afraid of feeling that infamous and legendary love everybody talked about so fervently. It felt too good to actually be a possibility. Life couldn't be that sweet, that good, that perfect.

 

In the end, life indeed wasn't perfect. But a resemblance of that perfection was possible, Abby was afraid to simply discover it. So when Jake had confessed to her his feelings, feelings she had probably been always aware of, she had ran away.

 

She had told him that she wasn't sure of what she felt. She had told him that she needed time to understand what was going on inside of her head. Jake had accepted her need of time, he had waited and waited.

 

Then Paris had happened.

 

She was supposed to go with him. He had planned everything as a surprise, just the two of them, in Paris where she had always dreamed to go since a kid. A tiny room, just one bed, two long weeks to understand, to feel, to be with him and sort things out. She was supposed to go there with him.

 

“ _I will not spend two weeks with you pretending that I don't feel the way I feel Abby.” He had said, his blue eyes staring at her with so many emotions swirling into the turquoise of his irises, so many that Abby had felt her heart drop in her chest heavily._

 

“ _I love you, and I want the whole world to know.” His voice cracking, he was holding her hands in his, and was getting closer. His body heat was physically affecting her, as it had started happening more and more often lately._

 

“ _Tell me what you feel. I need to know I'm not the only one feeling this Abby.” He wasn't pleading her to love him back, just because he wanted her to feel the same way at any cost, no. He was pleading her to be honest, to tell him the truth, to help him understand what the trembling girl in front of him really felt._

 

“ _I don't know.” she had whispered._

 

And now she knew she had lied. She had lied because she was afraid, because she felt happy and that scared her, because it was that kind of happiness that makes you wake up with a smile over your lips, and you start worrying that it might go away one day, and you don't know how to go back to normality after that.

 

How can you let go of something so pure and beautiful? How can you stop feeling that kind of happiness? How can you accept that one day it could go away? How are you supposed to keep moving on if for some reason... that happiness one day simply stops existing?

 

Jake had turned angry after her statement, but it was an anger that grew out of pain. He was hurt because he knew she was lying. It wasn't just Marcus who could read her so well, apparently he could tell when she was lying as well.

 

They had argued, and he had kissed her, roughly, passionately, as he had done more than just once, confusing her even more. Then, when he was still holding her by the hips, his forehead pressed against hers, he had breathed out the question that would have changed everything, even if they didn't know it back then.

 

“ _It's because of him?” his voice was heavy and low, his breath hot, burning the skin of her soft cheeks. Abby didn't need him to say his name to know who he meant. It would have been obvious to anybody, because there was just another person in her life that could matter that much to make her hesitate._

 

“ _Who?” she knew that answering his question with another wasn't the right way to face this. She knew he wasn't stupid, she also knew she was acting like one, but fear was pulling the threads as if she was a puppet in the hands of a sadistic fate._

 

“ _Wrong answer.” he whispered, he sounded defeated, as if he thought he had just lost her, for good. She wanted to explain to him that whatever he thought was going on, it was happening just in his head, nothing of what he feared was real._

 

_But then he withdrew, his cheeks the color of the sunset, his blue eyes were veiled by a mysterious and scary emotion, one that Abby was afraid to face. She parted her lips, but he withdrew completely, and stormed outside of her room before she could get a chance to speak._

 

When he encountered Marcus on the stairs that leaded to her room, she asked herself if fate was indeed playing all the cards here. She asked herself if they had even just one single drop of power over what happened in their lives. It seemed as if they were simple witnesses, powerless in front of what the universe decided was going to happen.

 

She was a woman of science, she rationally knew that it was all just a matter of casualties... and yet, even after all these years, she couldn't stop herself from thinking that maybe some things happen for a reason too complicated for simple humans to understand it.

 

What she had done later had been an act of pure instinct. She had decided she needed to understand, she owed an answer to Jake, and to herself. What Abby hadn't planned, was to feel that good with her best friend. She hadn't planned on enjoying herself that much, she hadn't planned on starting to ask herself a series of _What ifs_ that she had always been so good at ignoring.

 

Because truth be told, it hadn't all started in Paris. What she started feeling for Marcus on that trip, was something that had existed inside of her for a longer time, she had simply ignored it, letting it grow in a corner of her heart, pretending as if she hadn't been asking herself the same question Jake had asked her inside of her quiet room.

 

Marcus was her best friend, just as Jake, they had grown up together, they had bonded over the years, creating a balance that made the three of them happy. But then they had started growing up too much, too much to pretend as if what they felt was just a confused and weird thing they couldn't name and that they could put in the back of their heads easily.

 

One day they had woken up and had started realizing that something had changed, something inside of them had started blossoming, something so powerful and intense that was threatening to rift apart the balance they had always been able to keep.

 

Jake had been the first one to make a step over the line they had drew between them. The line that would shift all from _just friends_ to _maybe something more,_ that line that Abby was afraid had started to shift on its own, leaving her powerless, witnessing the change happening.

 

Jake had been brave, brave enough to start moving forward toward her, making it clear that what he felt was _more_ than just affection. Abby at first had kept ignoring it, day after day, she had kept telling herself that maybe she was seeing things that weren't there. At some point she had also presumed he and Marcus were in a secret relationship.

 

_Yeah sure._

 

She had always been smart and brilliant, she knew that if she thought something was happening, the majority of the time, she was absolutely right. So, when Jake made the first move, she told herself she should have listened to the tiny voice in the back of her head, the one that had kept whispering to her the truths she had kept ignoring all this time.

 

Jake liked her, really much, and she would have been lying if she said she didn't find him attractive as well. But then again, physical attraction isn't love. So, when she started thinking that even Marcus, with his thick black hair and his dark eyes looked handsome, she told herself it was perfectly acceptable. She was a girl, he was a boy, they were just made of flesh and bones, but attraction is easy to fight, to ignore.

 

What had started growing inside of her in those days in Paris though, wasn't just a strong and powerful attraction toward him, no. It was something that went beyond that, that pulsed in the more intimate parts of her, making her feel alive and scared at the same time.

 

It was in the way he looked at her, in the answers he seemed to be holding on the tip of his tongue, in the sense of protection she had felt whenever she had found herself waking up so close to him, that it had taken her all of her strength to get up and break the contact.

 

Something had started growing between them, a bond that went beyond their deep and strong friendship. She had ignored it, and for the most of the time, she had been able to live up to the lies she was telling herself, that nothing was happening, that she felt nothing.

 

What Abby didn't know back then, was that all that was happening to her, was due to her fear of loving Jake back. She was afraid of stepping into the happiness he seemed to promise her whenever he stole her a deep kiss, whenever his hands fell in hers, whenever his arms tightened around her frame.

 

She was afraid and confused, so confused, that she started indeed asking herself if what she wanted was maybe to be with someone else. Marcus had been there, he was the only other person she had that kind of connection with, and she had instinctively started moving forward toward him.

 

The line had been crossed at some point, by him and his damned dark eyes. He had finally stepped into her direction, she had been surprised to find herself thinking that _it was about damn time_ for him to make the first move.

 

She would be lying to herself if she said she hadn't wanted what happened. Her body had reacted at him in a way that it had never done with Jake. She didn't know how to explain it, nor she thought she wanted to, she had simply started losing herself into the ocean of touches and kisses he had offered her.

 

It had felt so good, she had felt so good. He was the exact opposite of Jake, when he kissed her, touched her, stroked her. He was Marcus not Jake, and her body reacted to him in a way that she had never experienced. She seemed to be catching fire, unable to breathe properly, feeling vibrant and alive under the palm of his hands.

 

His lips tasted as forbidden promises, his hands felt as solid certainties of a future she couldn't see but that she suddenly wanted to live. He felt so good, that when those three words left his lips, for a moment she had smiled, feeling her heart growing in her chest.

 

But then, flashes of blue eyes, blonde hair, strong arms holding her and another deep and low voice saying the same, came rushing back at her. She stopped, her body tensed, and her brain finally registered the three words that had left Marcus' lips.

 

_I love you._

 

_No._

 

_No you can't._

 

Her mind was loud, her heart was beating too fast for her body to handle the pressure, her blood was pulsing in her temples, her head felt heavy, she was afraid as she had never been before.

 

Because Marcus' statement had been so pure and honest, so true and real, that it had settled into motion a series of thoughts that Abby couldn't seem able to fight anymore.

 

 _I love you._ He had said.

 

 _I love Jake._ She had thought.

 

And like that, the truth she had been avoiding till then, the realization she had been so able to push away all this time, was right in front of her, holding all the answers she needed, scaring the hell out of her.

 

_I love Jake._

 

Abby felt so stupid, she had needed another man to confess her that he loved her, to realize she loved Jake?

 

_Stupid. Coward._

 

She had left then, unable to process all of her thoughts while Marcus was looking at her like that, his hair messy, his shirt exposing a strap of skin over his abdomen, his dark eyes blinking in confusion. She had left, she had ran away, and then she had kept silent.

 

 _Unfair._ Absolutely true.

 

She knew she had been unfair to him, she had hurt him, and she knew it, but she had decided to ignore that truth on purpose. Marcus had waited, patiently, but it was clear as the sun that was shining in the sky when their plane landed on American territory again, he was hurt.

 

What had happened next had defined their future for the twenty years to come.

 

She ignored him, and he ignored her. But they lived next to each other, and you can do your best to avoid someone, but it's hard when you can see him changing clothes from your window. Or when you can spot him reading a book from your backyard, sitting on his favorite chair, his dark eyes darting out to you whenever he thinks you are not looking.

 

She did her best to avoid him, because she felt guilty. Because she felt stupid. She knew she had made a big mistake, and she owed him an apology, but she was a coward.

 

When Jake reached out for her eventually, she burst out into tears as soon as he showed up at her door. He had held her tightly, without letting go, for almost two hours she had kept crying in his embrace, wetting his light blue shirt with her salty and pained tears.

 

She was in pain, because she suddenly hated herself. She had done something that she had never thought herself able to. She had broken her best friend's heart, and in the process, she had broken hers too.

 

Jake had listened to her, while she had explained to him what had happened, because she hadn't been able to keep it for herself. Jake had listened in silence, taking in all her words, all the details, all her fears, doubts, worries and sins.

 

He had listened, and Abby had talked, until eventually she had fallen quiet, her tears had dried, turning into ghosts over the soft skin of her cheeks. Then, when all was in the open, when her heart was lighter, when her mouth had turned dry for all the talking, he had hugged her again.

 

He had held her tight, his breath heavy, his hands soft in her hair, his heart beating heavily in his chest, right under her ear. Abby had closed her eyes, and had inhaled deeply in his scent, then she had said the only truth she was sure of.

 

“ _I love you Jake.”_

 

And how good it had felt to finally be honest with herself? To finally let out a truth into that ocean of lies she had kept telling herself all this time?

 

“ _I love you too Abby._ ”

 

And then, in that exact moment, in her quiet room in the blue Walters' house, Abby and Jake had put down the first brick of the wall that was going to separate them from Marcus for twenty long years.

 

 

….

 

Abby kept hiding in her room for the rest of the night, until at some point, she fell asleep. Clarke had entered to check on her when her eyelids had started feeling too heavy for her to keep them open. She had laid herself at her side, looking at her closed eyelids, listening to the quiet murmur of her breathing.

 

She had missed her mum. The realization growing in her head powerfully, the more she looked at her, the more she felt that nostalgic feeling that had hunted her for the entirety of the two months she had spent in college, away from her.

 

She missed her mother, and her mother missed her. She knew she had Raven back home, but she also knew, that for how much she loved her, Raven wasn't her. With a sad smile printed over her lips, Clarke closed her eyes, holding her mother's hands in hers, she drifted to sleep in the perfect silence embracing them.

 

When Raven jerked awake on the couch downstairs, both the Griffin women were sleeping together, still fully dressed, till twenty minutes by now. Raven blinked open her big brown eyes in the darkness of the room. When she noticed that Clarke wasn't at her side anymore, she looked at the ceiling above her head, where she knew the bedroom was located.

 

She collected some strength and rose to her feet, stumbling in the dark toward the stairs. When she pushed the door open, and peeked inside, she didn't know what she was expecting, but when her eyes landed over the shadows of the two most important persons in her life, sleeping together, her heart squeezed in her chest.

 

She approached the bed in silence, she was going to drape a blanket over them, just to make their sleep more comfortable, she didn't want to wake neither of them. When she had found it and had started covering their sleeping forms under it though, Abby opened her eyes lazily.

 

“Raven...” she whispered in the thick darkness.

 

“Sssh, it's ok Abby, go back to sleep.” Raven whispered back, feeling guilty for waking her up. Abby's hands reached hers when she started to withdrew though, and her fingers closed around her tiny wrist.

 

“Stay.” she said. It wasn't a question, it wasn't even an order, it was a proposal, one that she had never had to make before. Raven had spent many nights on Abby's couch, falling asleep with her while watching a movie, eating Chinese food, sharing even just the silence. In this moment though, Raven felt as if Abby was afraid she could say no, as if she could deny her the comfort of her presence.

 

“There's no need Abby I-” Raven started to say, suddenly too aware of how Abby's look made her feel. The touch of her hand on her skin was soft and warm, comforting and soothing, a series of feels she didn't know how to name without bursting into tears started growing in the pit of her stomach.

 

“Please.” Abby said then, moving the blanket to make some room behind her back. Raven clenched her jaw and nodded, unable to say no. She sneaked under the blankets in perfect silence, a soft happy sigh left Abby's lungs.

 

When Raven laid down, maintaining a respectful distance form her body, Abby searched for her hand behind her back and took it in hers, pressing it on her stomach, forcing her to close the gap between them.

 

“I'm so glad to have the both of you here.” Abby whispered, squeezing her hand in hers tightly. Raven's throat constricted, and she closed her eyes shut for a long moment, trying to calm her racing heart.

 

She was suddenly really aware of how good it felt to hear that. She suddenly felt in the right place, with the right person. She knew how she felt toward Abby and Clarke, she cared for them, she had also admitted to herself that she loved them as a resemblance of a family. She was aware that she needed them as much as they needed her.

 

But for the first time in forever, Raven was feeling as if the woman she was now holding, was more than just Doctor Abigail Griffin, a really close friend of her. She felt as if the woman she was holding, that was silently drifting back to sleep in her embrace, was way more than just that, since the day she had left her that letter and that generous tip on her desk.

 

Raven felt as if she was holding in her arms the mother she had never connected with. She felt as if her family had never existed until she had stepped into this two women's lives. With this new feeling growing in her chest, Raven closed her eyes and smiled against the fabric of Abby's shirt.

 

“I love you.” Abby whispered in the dark, before she would have been too sleepy to manage a single word from leaving her lips.

 

“I love you too.” Raven said, no sassy comment, no humor, just an undeniable truth she didn't see why she had to mask anymore.

 

Then them both fell deeply asleep, and the three women kept holding each other throughout the night.

 

….

 

Abby had a plan in her head. For the first time since she had sat foot in Arkadia, she had a clear plan, one that she wanted to follow from beginning to end.

 

She was going to apologize to Marcus. For real this time, facing him and every reaction he would have, without running away, not this time.

 

It was with this idea in mind, that she stepped on his porch the day after the dinner. She knocked softly on the light wood, waiting with her heart beating heavily in her chest for an answer. After a bunch of seconds, that seemed to physically hover upon her shoulders, the door opened.

 

But instead of a pair of dark eyes, she was welcomed by two green pearls, blinking in her direction with confusion shimmering back and forth in the ocean those beautiful irises were made of.

 

“Octavia...” Abby breathed out, trying her best to not sound disappointed. This was her house as well after all, it wasn't that weird for her to open the door. The thing was that Abby had a speech prepared in her brain since she had woken up that morning, she had been trying it in her head for hours, before she had decide to face him once and for all.

 

She wasn't expecting to say anything else except for the apologies that were burning on her tongue.

 

“Abby...” the girl said, tilting her head, one hand over her hip. She was wearing a concert t-shirt, one that Abby thought she had seen before, but she couldn't quiet remember where.

 

“Is your father home?” she asked, knowing perfectly well that he was. His pickup was in the garage, she had kept throwing glances over his house whenever she had perceived a movement in the corner of her eyes, he hadn't stepped outside all morning.

 

“Yes...” Octavia said, in her tone it was clear she knew that Abby could answer that question by herself.

 

“Good.” Abby said, clearing her throat, smiling. “Would you mind telling him I would like to talk to him?” she asked, feeling how her heart started to beat faster with every new word she let out. Octavia pursed her lips and then took a glance at her back.

 

“I don't know if he's in the mood honestly.” she said, smiling politely. Abby blinked, suddenly her muscles were tensing under her skin.

 

“W-well... could you ask him anyway?” she took a step closer, “Please?” she asked, lowering her voice, looking at the girl with pleading eyes. Octavia sighed out heavily, making it clear she didn't like what was going on here.

 

 _Trust me, I don't like it either._ Abby thought.

 

“You can wait in the living room.” the girl said, before withdrawing from the door, leaving it open so that she could come in. Abby nodded with herself and stepped inside, closing the door quietly at her back.

 

The house still smelled as roast-beef and roasted potatoes. The rooms were silent, when Octavia left her, climbing the stairs that leaded to the bedrooms, she was left completely alone. Bellamy wasn't around, or at least it seemed so, the house seemed to be waiting with her for the man she owed more than just an apology to.

 

After a couple of minutes, that stretched into the silence and seemed to turn into endless hours, she heard footsteps over the top of the stairs. Instinctively she braced herself, leaning her weight against the blue couch, as if afraid her legs could give up under her weight. Then, someone started descending the stairs slowly.

 

At first she thought it was Octavia, informing her that her father wasn't coming down to talk. But to her great surprise, it was Marcus whom appeared few feet from her. His thick dark hair messy, he was wearing a pair of comfortable dark gray pants, and a black cotton shirt that stretched over his muscles.

 

He had probably gained his muscularity due to his previous work as a police officer. Abby swallowed, suddenly really aware of the heavy stare Marcus had fixed over her. His dark eyes were unreadable, this all of a sudden felt way scarier than whatever kind of turbulent emotion she had prepared herself to face.

 

“You wanted to see me?” he asked her then, breaking the silence. His voice rough, it sounded as if he had just woken up. Maybe he had slept in through the morning, skipping even lunch.

 

She asked herself if that was a possibility, and if it was the case, then what could have possibly forced him to sleep in for so many hours?

 

“Abby?” her name coming from his lips dragged her out of her thoughts.

 

“Yes. I wanted to see you.” she admitted, straightening her back, raising her chin, squeezing her purse tightly in her clenched fists.

 

“What for?” he asked, his tone flat, as if he really didn't want to know.

 

“I need to talk to you.” she said, swallowing hard. She was aware of how hard this already felt, because she was afraid to face him a third time, to talk about all the things they still needed to solve. They had talked already, she had apologized many times, but it always seemed to not be enough, not for him nor for her. It was exhausting, and Abby was starting to feel restless.

 

“Ok. Then talk.” he said, and with that, walked toward the kitchen, leaving her behind. For a moment Abby didn't move, not sure she was allowed to walk freely in his house without a permission. But when he flashed her a look before entering the room, he seemed to be inviting her to follow him.

 

So she did.

 

He approached the coffee machine, and took a mug from the cabinet above his head, filling it with what was, presumably, lukewarm dark coffee. When he was content with the amount he had poured, he stopped and turned toward her, looking at her from over the ceramic rim, sipping slowly.

 

“So?” he asked, his muffled voice echoed in the dark coffee.

 

“Yeah... right.” Abby said, clearing her throat, approaching the kitchen island. She left her purse on the light marble, and her fingers started dancing over it, following the natural stretches into the cold stone. “First of all, I want to apologize for my escape last night.” she said, feeling her heart heavy in her chest.

 

It was hard, it would always be, to face him about their past, she knew that. But she had to be strong and solve this, because there was no way in hell that she was going to go back home without apologizing for everything, explaining her reasons. Not that she didn't feel guilty, she simply wanted to let out everything.

 

“You were saying so many truths... And I acted as a coward, again, I preferred to run away instead of face you.” she sat down, afraid she couldn't handle to be standing for more than a couple of seconds before losing her balance. Her body was fresh from hours of sleep, but her mind was working hard over heavy thoughts, and her heart was wounded too. She needed some sort of support.

 

“I should have stayed, so you could finish what you were saying, so I could explain to you the things I kept secret... even to myself.” on her last sentence, she took a glance toward him. He was silent, observing her with his back leaning against the sink, one hand on the metal, the other one pressing the mug against his lips.

 

_He's giving you time and space to talk, use it wisely._

 

“I owe you more than a simple apology. I know that.” she breathed in and out slowly, giving oxygen to her lungs was the only way she could have few seconds to gather her thoughts and plan her next move. Suddenly her speech wasn't that clear in her head anymore, she had to go by instinct, letting it all out as she should have done so many years ago.

 

“I did something awful that night in Paris. I could tell you that I was just eighteen, that I was scared and confused. I could tell you that I was drunk even, since I apparently enjoyed french wine way too much, considering I couldn't drink it back home, that probably could be a very efficient excuse.” she shook her head, and missed the quick smile that Marcus hid inside of his mug. “But the truth is, that I made a mistake.” she pursed her lips, her fingers torturing each other over her lap. “I made a mistake and I am sorry for it.”

 

She turned toward him then. Marcus had stopped drinking, and was now looking at her with his lips closed in a tight line.

 

“I am sorry.” her eyes were filling with tears, she felt them burn in her brown irises, but she managed to force them back quiet rapidly. She was going to congratulate herself about that later. “I broke your heart. I am aware of that. You and I were best friends, and no matter how young and carefree we were, we loved and cared for each other... and friends should never lie or hurt the other.” she said, a nostalgic smile over her lips.

 

“I should have told you that Jake was in love with me. I should have told you that that trip was supposed to be for the two of us alone, so that I could understand what I felt, so that I could give him an answer. We should have be honest about it with you, because you were our best friend.” she didn't know where she was supposed to keep her eyes, if on him, or on the floor at her feet. So she kept bouncing them up and down restlessly.

 

“We loved you. We cared for you. Jake wanted to tell you the truth since the first day, oh he was always so honest...” her hand traveled by instinct toward the ring attached to her necklace, stroking it gently. “I was the one that asked him to wait. I wasn't sure, and I didn't want to ruin everything between us.” she nodded, admitting to herself how _ironic_ that sounded now.

 

“I needed time, and I was indeed confused. I was in love, but I wasn't certain of it. So, I stubbornly refused to tell him how I felt, and instead I _used_ you.” she felt her stomach twist painfully, and her heart squeeze. “I felt so good with you, I trusted you, I cared for you.” she had tears shimmering in her dark eyes again, this time though, she wasn't fast enough to force them back, and a few rolled down her cheeks.

 

“You were there, and you made me feel good, safe. I started asking myself if what I felt for Jake was just affection, because if I felt that way with you... then maybe I wasn't indeed in love with him. I thought that falling in love with someone meant that you see no one else.” she was shaking her head, remembering all too well how naive of her had been to think that.

 

“But the reason you made me feel so good, it was because you were a good friend.” she looked at him, and noticed he had left his mug on the surface of the counter at his back. His eyes were steady and careful, observing her with attention. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs as much as she could.

 

“I was afraid...” she smiled softly, shaking her head. “I was afraid to allow myself to be happy. That's the truth. I was afraid because I thought that if I started feeling that good... then one day I could lose it, and I didn't know if I was strong enough to handle it.” she pursed her lips, allowing her heart to feel that wave of pain that had become so familiar to her.

 

She had been happy, for twenty long years, she had been really happy. She had had a husband that she had loved, and that had loved her back with equal passion. She had created a life, buying a beautiful house, becoming a successful doctor, having Clarke. She had been lucky, and she knew that. Perfection had never been part of her daily routine, not such thing existed, she had realized it quite rapidly. Nothing is meant to be perfect, nothing is meant to go smoothly every single day.

 

But everything should always be fair, that was something she had kept telling herself, since that fateful day, since that awful accident. Life should be at least fair. She knew how hypocritical of her was to think that, how could she demand life to be fair, when she hadn't been able to be fair even to her best friend?

 

She had been young, that much was true. She had been naive and she didn't know back then what she knew now. Not everything is simple in life, especially human connections. Sometimes friendships can be as much complicated as love relationships, if not even more.

 

But it all felt as a big excuse whenever she thought about it now. She had kept telling herself those lies all those years, as if like that she could come out clean. As if she could feel better, the more lies she told herself, the easier it would get to forget all about it.

 

Truth was that the more she kept ignoring the problem, the more it got bigger. She had realized it as soon as she had looked Marcus in the eyes again after all those years. She had kept pushing him in the back of her head, trying to bury his presence with new memories.

 

Her wedding day, Marcus' familiar voice faded.

 

Clarke was born, Marcus' painful expression the last day they had seen each other was gone.

 

Clarke first steps, Paris was just a city, it didn't hold any ghosts, there was nothing painful to forget.

 

She had kept doing it, unconsciously, for all her life. She had kept making new memories, filling her life with beauty and joy, and had kept ignoring the constant presence of him, pushing him far far away from her, as if he had never existed.

 

But when Jake had died, her mind had started digging out memories she didn't even remember she had. Memories of a childhood she had tried hard to erase. Memories that held beauty and happiness, but even pain and sorrow.

 

She had ignored for too long that feel of guilt that had followed her throughout her life, it was time to face her sins, to acknowledge her mistakes, to voice out the truths she had always kept within herself.

 

“What I did to you was unfair. I should have told you since the beginning that I was confused, I could have asked you for advice... You probably would have listened.” she nodded, knowing in the bottom of her heart, that Marcus would have listened, and helped. “But instead I decided to ignore the problem, to keep going on as if nothing was troubling me. That had been my biggest mistake.” she inhaled deeply.

 

“I decided to enjoy myself, and I don't regret that... we were happy together, we had fun, we enjoyed our time together, as friends are supposed to.” Abby didn't noticed the way Marcus' hands had started squeezing the counter at his back, she was focusing her attention over the marble below her hand.

 

“Then, when we kissed, I told myself that maybe Jake had always been right.” she started saying, unaware of the emotions swirling inside of Marcus' heart. “Maybe I didn't love him. If I was able to kiss somebody else, then maybe I wasn't in love.” she shook her head, “Little I knew back then how humans actually work.” she smiled bitterly.

 

“Truth is that I was young, curious and afraid. I was stupid enough to tell myself that I could kiss my best friend without screwing it up... But in the end we both know how wrong I was about that.” she looked at him briefly, and didn't catch the trembling light shimmering in his dark irises. “I should have never done what I did, because I made you suffer, I shut you off of my life, and that wasn't fair.” she was shaking her head, looking at her hands on her lap, while her thumb stroked the wedding ring on her finger.

 

“I should have told you all from the beginning, we could have worked it out together, because we were good at being friends,” she looked at him and couldn't help but smile. Marcus at first didn't react, then he smiled back, his eyes from wide and steady turned softer and nostalgic. “We could have been friends for our entire life, I believe in that.” she murmured.

 

Marcus sighed, his eyes lost for a moment on a random spot on his kitchen floor, then he looked at her again and nodded, but no words escaped his lips.

 

“Do you think you will ever be able to forgive me?” she asked him, taking all the courage she had left, to ask him the _big_ question, that question she was afraid to answer by herself. She needed him to do that, and she hoped, in the bottom of her heart, that he could find a reason to forgive her, so that she could go home feeling less guilty.

 

“Marcus?” she called his name softly, when he didn't answer. He was standing there, motionless, quiet, into his black eyes dozens of thoughts seemed to be swirling, fighting one with the other for dominance. He was thinking of an answer to her question.

 

Time seemed to pass by heavily, lazily, so slowly that Abby almost thought she would go crazy before he gave her an answer. Eventually he parted his lips.

 

“I think I forgave you the first moment I saw you on my porch Abby...” he whispered, his voice heavy and rough. It took Abby a moment to register his words, then she blinked and suddenly found herself speechless.

 

_How was she supposed to answer to that?_

 

“I don't want to be angry with you for the rest of my life. There's now use in be mad for something like that. We were young, naive, ignorant.” he smiled sadly, one of his hands landed over her shoulder, he squeezed it softly. “It's ok Abby. What happened in the past, will remain in the past, where it belongs.” his voice was modulated, he sounded calm, almost _too calm._

 

Abby was suddenly feeling really uncomfortable, as if his mature and calm reaction was far way scarier than the angry and pained reaction she had imagined him to go through.

 

“Ok...” she breathed out, not quite sure she could say something more without starting to ask him if he was sure, if that was indeed all he had to say.

 

_Take what he is giving you, don't push him, he forgave you, accept that._

 

“Good.” he smiled, swallowing in one last gulp the rest of his coffee. “So, did you already contacted someone to sell the house?” he asked, crossing his arms, tilting his head, as if they were having just a casual conversation, as if they were two normal friends, informing each other about their plans for the incoming days.

 

_That's what you wanted, that's what you're getting._

 

“I...” she started to say, tilting her head to the side. She could almost hear the sounds her brain was making, working hard around her thoughts, as if it was trying to decipher the man in front of her. He had just said that he wanted to forget all about what had happened, and yet... he seemed to be more distant from her than ever.

 

“Not yet.” she eventually said, smiling gently, nodding and bowing her head, losing her eyes over the marble floor. She was suddenly feeling uncomfortable, it felt odd to be in the same room with him right now. They hadn't argued, there was no tension between them, he was even smiling.

 

So why did she feel like something was off? It almost felt as if arguing with Marcus was way more comfortable than stay in perfect silence, without saying a single word. For a moment Abby asked herself if their relationship had turned to this. She asked herself if for some reason, maybe the best friend she had once loved to share the simple life with... was now nothing more than a man she could only argue with.

 

“If you need some help, maybe I can contact somebody.” he was saying, but Abby wasn't really listening. Her thoughts were running rapidly in her brain, making it hard for her to concentrate on the man in front of her, whom was now looking at the screen of his phone, scrolling down a list of numbers.

 

“I could ask Indra, probably she knows somebody we can trust to put the house on the market. Then we could also search for somebody to come and check if there are some repairs that need to be done-” his voice faded, his words started to stumble one over the other.

 

Abby was silent, looking at him talking, without hearing any of his words. It felt almost surreal, but she wasn't able to shake off that weird feeling that was creeping over her.

 

“Abby?” he called her name, when she didn't answer him.

 

_Did he ask something? What did he ask?_

 

“Yes?” she blinked and squinted her eyes, trying to concentrate on the man in front of her.

 

“Are you listening to what I'm saying?” he asked, a flash of concern passed in front of his eyes.

 

“Sure.” she lied, nodding and smiling politely.

 

“Ok... so, you want me to help you?” he asked. Abby nodded, and a polite smile formed over her lips.

 

“Yeah... I think I should use all the help I can get.” she said, causing him to smile himself.

 

“Ok then.” he whispered, focusing again on the phone in his hand. Abby hummed and nodded with herself.

 

_Right._

 

It was then that Abby noticed Octavia, standing few meters from the open door, she was pretending to be cleaning the coffee table, but her green eyes were darting out to them at any given chance. When her light eyes met hers, Abby smiled, and the girl quickly turned her head in the other direction, collecting a couple of books in hands, disappearing from view.

 

“I think I should go now.” she said, stepping off the stool, taking her bag in hand. Marcus raised his eyes from the phone and looked at her.

 

“You can stay if you want.” he said, his voice calm, once again _too calm._ Abby nodded and shrugged.

 

“I should start cleaning the rooms, taking care of the garden.... I also want to spend some time with the girls.” she said, already walking toward the front door. She suddenly felt the need to leave his house, to be in a neutral space, with Clarke and Raven, to collect her thoughts.

 

“Abby?” he called after her, when she had already started to reach out for the handhold.

 

“Yeah?” she peeked at him from over her shoulder. Marcus was standing few feet from her, his phone in his pocket again, his eyes dark.

 

“I'm glad you came back.” he whispered, his voice thick. “I've missed my best friend.” he said, and Abby wasn't sure about it, but it almost felt as if saying those words out loud, was causing him pain. She smiled, feeling her heart grow in her chest.

 

“I've missed you too.” she said, managing to keep her voice steady.

 

_Since when are you this emotional?_

 

Marcus smiled, and approached her then. He opened the door for her, Abby thanked him with a soft nod and then stepped outside, turning one last time.

 

“I'll let you know as soon as I hear something ok?” he said, one hand secured on the door, the other on the door-frame.

 

“Thank you.” she whispered, looking up to meet his eyes. He was standing with his back straightened, the height difference causing her to raise her chin to look him properly into the dark black of his deep irises.

 

“It's nothing.” he said, and Abby shook her head.

 

“No I meant.... _thank you._ ” she said, taking an involuntary step toward him. She hoped in her heart that he would get for what she was thanking him. For a moment he remained expressionless, but then he smiled quickly and nodded.

 

He didn't say _you're welcome,_ or _it's ok_. He said nothing, not in words, but his eyes once again spoke for him. Abby's smile deepened, and then she did the only thing her brain seemed able to think of.

 

She leaned forward and closed the gap between them, enveloping one arm around his shoulders, she hugged him. The other arm was swinging at her side, the hand keeping her purse close to her body. She closed her eyes, when his body heat reached hers, and she smiled sadly when his musky scent invaded her senses, and she lingered into the feeling of him close to her, for as long as he allowed her to.

 

To her surprise, he returned the gesture, after a bunch of seconds that passed on slowly and heavily. He enveloped his arms, both of them, around her frame, and he held her against his chest. His beard tickled the soft skin of her temples.

 

“Thank you.” she whispered again, her breath sneaking under the fabric of his shirt. His arms tightened ever so slightly around her body, causing Abby to swallow deeply. She broke the contact then, and took a last look at him from under her eyelashes.

 

His expression was hard to read, it seemed as if too many emotions were swirling in the blackness of his irises, so many that Abby didn't get a chance to catch one, before he nodded and started walking backwards inside of his house.

 

When he closed the door, and Abby was left alone on the porch, she inhaled deeply and then sighed out heavily. A soft smile over her lips, she walked over to her old childhood house. Her heart felt lighter, her chest wasn't constricted around it anymore, her legs felt free to walk her without the pressure of some weight hovering upon her shoulders, she carried herself freely and it felt good.

 

Marcus Kane had forgave her, and Abby Griffin was finally able to breathe.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiraeth:
> 
> homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, or for a home which may have never been  
> an intense form of longing or nostalgia, wistfulness  
> the grief for the lost places of your past


End file.
